About These Scars
by Serenity Ma Sogni
Summary: It was a letter no one was supposed to read, and the worst possible person just happened to find it. GilbertxMatthew Rated M for past and current abuse, depressed thoughts, and partial thoughts of suicide. No smut. Maybe other pairings later on. AU
1. Chapter 1

"I want you to think back, back to when you were a little kid or a toddler and remember your first scar. Please write about it, was it a sports injury? Was it a fight you got in with your sibling? Tell me about what you think about when you see that scar."

I could feel myself start to freak out, my first scar? The long white strip that stretched across my chest burned at the memory.

"This will be due tomorrow, please make it at least two pages."

The classroom burst into movement as the students around me pulled out their notebooks and laptops. I stayed still in my seat, dreading what I had to do.

I could definitely lie, but writing… writing was my safe place, writing a lie would be lying to myself; it felt wrong.

Would he read them? I would be safe if he didn't read them; he never read them anyway, just making sure there were an appropriate amount of pages.

I would be fine.

_My mother made my first scar when I was seven and I remember the occurrence very clearly. It was the first time she had ever taken a knife to me and I was terrified, I had never thought it would go this far. The silvery gleam of the knife rivaled the hateful gleam in my mother's eyes._

_I had never thought that my mother could hate me that much. _

_I hadn't really done anything to deserve it; my mother just snapped that day. I look too much like my father is what she says. _

_The scar stretches from my shoulder to my hip, covering almost the entirety of my chest, when it is in the sunlight it shines white, when it is in the dark it looks dull. Sometimes when I move around too much it gets irritated and red and because it was such a big wound I need to be a little wary of how I stretch the skin of that area. _

_When I see the scar I remember what my mom does to me and it makes it kind of hard to see the bright side of things. _

_I hope no one has to read this. I am sorry. –Matthew_


	2. Chapter 2

What was I thinking?

I stared at the letter I had written blankly, no matter how much I wanted the words to be a lie they were true, and no one could ever read them.

I crumpled the paper as much as I could, and stuffed it into my backpack, starting a new one immediately.

_The first scar I ever got was from a bike accident with my childhood friend Alfred, sometimes I truly wonder what Alfred thinks in that blonde head of his but apparently he though it would be a good idea to see if I could ride my bike after he broke the small device on the handle bars that allowed me to apply the break. _

_I ended up almost run over by a car, and with a huge gash in my arm. Alfred -I am quiet amused to say- screamed like a little girl and passed out, falling off his bike completely. _

_That summer was quite eventful and every time I see the faint white scar I think of the fun Alfred and I had together. _

_-Matthew Williams _

I looked disbelievingly at the paper in front of me, it was adequate, it was a lie, it was disgusting.

A sigh escaped my lips and I clasped my hands together under the desk.

It was biology class and most of my classmates were still working on their tests, I had finished early as usual, most of my classes were extremely easy.

The albino boy next to me doodled aimlessly on an extra piece of paper, smiling widely whenever he would find a new thing to sketch. I watched him for a while then turned back to my page with the lie written in my loopy script.

The albino boy was also in my creative writing class, though where I usually wrote long fiction novels, he wrote science fiction short stories and memoirs.

While my writing was dark and complicated, his is energetic and painless.

I liked reading his work in class when we were to read each other's pieces; they made me forget… yes. They made me forget for just a little bit.

No one liked to read my work, it made them feel bad inside, and sick; that was a common word used.

Wouldn't people notice the obvious lack of depth in my paper this time?

I folded the page neatly and slid it into my folder. Either I was turning it in, or I wasn't turning anything in.

* * *

Once class finally ended I grabbed my things, the albino boy snickered before walking away, meeting with the two other boys who greeted him with mischievous grins.

I walked away alone.

It seemed like the rest of the day passed in a blur, I wanted so badly to just curl up in one of the corners and sleep for a while but knowing my luck someone would probably end up walking on me.

I packed my bag slowly and walked out the door of the school as quickly as I could, I hated to be stuck in the minuscule hallways in the school, I always got trampled on and stuck between people.

I began my walk home, stopping only once to enjoy the view of the small children playing on the play set from the sidewalk.

"Hey!"

I kept walking, no one I knew would be calling me, when suddenly I was yanked around. I yelped and grabbed at my shoulder tightly, wincing as the bruised area burned.

"I was calling you, you know." It was the albino boy I sit next to in Biology, his pale un-pigmented hair glistened in a way I didn't know hair could look. He was leaning his weight on one side of his body with both hands on his hips, a pout playing on his pale lips.

"What?" I asked, stunned that someone like him would seek me out. Was this even close to his house?

"I just have one question." He smiled wickedly and held up a familiar crumpled paper.

"Would this _happen_ to be yours?"

I gaped at the paper, no. No. No. No. No! My breath hitched in my lungs and I felt myself begin to panic. No! This couldn't be happening! This shouldn't be happening!This boy, with the arrogant smile plastered on his lips was holing the biggest secret I had ever had in my life.

"Did you read it?" I gasped out and his already wicked grin became feral.

"So you think you get to act all pathetic just because your mom beats you once and a while? Ha! You have no right!" He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stepped forward.

"There are a lot of wicked people out there kid, I suggest you accept things the way they are and quit bitching about it." He sneered then backed away, tossing the paper back at me after crumpling it again.

"Pathetic." He whispered, then sprinted away where the two boys from earlier were waiting for him. For a second one of the boys, with dark brown hair and tan skin looked over at me; concern flashing over his face before he looked back to his friends and began to walk away with them.

I covered my face in my hands letting a sob tear out of my throat. My already bruised knees hit the pavement hard when I fell and curled into the fetal position on the cold sidewalk, feeling empty and worthless.

Wouldn't it be better if I just died?

Wouldn't it be easier on everyone else to make the problems my life was filed with disappear? My mind flashed quickly in the possibilities of each way I could escape, each getting more painful than the last.

I don't know how long I stayed there, letting my tears drip down onto the cement leaving small dark spots on the grey.

The thought of how my mother would react to me being late home was the only thing that got me up and moving in the direction of my home.

My already bruised body would most definitely get a beating tonight. I wonder what she will use this time? Maybe she will call one of her boyfriends over to do the job for her.

I walked slowly, enjoying the little pain moving had now. Later it would hurt so much more so I needed to appreciate the small amount pain I felt.

As I was walking down the sidewalk I noticed with amusement that the albino boy and his two friends were sitting on the porch of a house five down from mine; I guess I never saw them before because I usually got home so much earlier.

They didn't see me, thank god, as I stepped up to my door and unlocked it with the spare key.

"Matthew."

* * *

"Matthew."

The word rang through my ears, it was not my name; rather it was my label. I looked up to find my mother looming over me, her long blonde hair pulled back into a sloppy bun.

Her hand came crashing down onto my face, leaving long bleeding scratches where her rough nails came down.

"Do you know how worried I was?" She whispered scathingly, each word hissing off of her tongue like acid. I didn't dare answer, nor stop the blood from dripping down my face onto the tile floor.

"You could have gotten sick without me knowing, I would have had to take care of you _again_." With that word she grabbed my arm into a bruising grip and threw me into the wall, an unfulfilling thud resounded as my body hit.

"You could have been hit by a car! You could have died! We don't have enough money to pay for more hospital bills!" She stepped hard onto my arm with her pointed heel, putting all of her weight onto it before removing the pressure when I let out a garbled scream. Her wild blonde hair flew around her as she kicked me viciously. I tried to ignore the psychotic gleam in her blue eyes.

"You come home _immediately_ after school!" She kicked me in my stomach again and I grit my teeth together.

"Do" Kick. "You." Kick. "Hear me?!" She screeched then added a final kick to my head. I nodded and knelt in front of her, bringing my clasped hands to rest on top of my throbbing head.

"Yes Mom, I am sorry Mom. It won't happen again." I whispered, barely recognizing the words though they were familiar on my tongue.

She stomped off, no doubt to clean the blood off and make dinner for herself. I pulled myself off the floor, taking off my red hoodie before using the shirt I had been wearing to mop up the blood that had come from the re opened cuts she made and the ones on my face.

I didn't look at my bare chest or my color stained body, only focusing on cleaning the mess I had made.

I climbed up the stairs to my room, smiling in appreciation that she had not used a knife like I had expected her to. Each beating brought me closer to the cold sleep I longed for, but couldn't achieve by myself.

I couldn't bring myself to cry like before, only to take out a long white bandage and tape it around the long scratches after disinfecting them.

I did my homework like a normal teenager, and went to bed like my body didn't throb and ache like hell fire, like every time I thought about my life bile would rush to the back of my throat.

I should have been hungry; the only thing I had managed to eat was some chips from a vending machine at school with the money I had managed to save up. Most of the time I just mooched off of Alfred.

Alfred was the only one who knew about my problem other than Gilbert, though Gilbert hardly knew anything.

Alfred had always been there for me when we were younger, through my hardest times. Usually it had been him who patched me up after a beating, took me to the hospital when I needed to, and snuck me food as much as he could.

I owed Alfred my life; even if now he did somewhat ignore me.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, my stomach felt hollow, it burned like fire to sit up and when I looked I almost cried at what I saw.

My stomach was almost completely bruised; hardly any of the pale skin was visible under the discolored skin.

A whimper escaped un-bided from my lips as I hauled myself out of bed and I clenched my teeth moving cautiously down the hall, searching and listening for any signs that my mother was home though it appeared she wasn't.

It was normal for her to not be home in the mornings since she had an office job; we mostly lived off of the money we got from my parents divorce before I was born.

Once I made sure she wasn't home, I quickly stepped into the shower, ignoring the red-hot broken skin, and the bruises that only got darker under the water. The scratches on the side of my face stung.

I stepped out quickly, and ignored the rumbling of my stomach as I pulled on my clothes. I threw my P.E. uniform into my backpack even though I would sit out today (he wanted me dressed out even if I didn't participate) and wrapped any injuries that needed it.

I slipped out the door, closing it tightly behind me and locking it before sneaking a glance at the albino boy's house. There was a person standing there, whose head turned sharply towards the sound of me shutting the door. It was the boy who glanced at me from yesterday.

He took one look at me then raced down the steps of the porch towards my house. I waited in anxious anticipation for him to approach.

"Your face." He said and reached out to touch the bandage. "What did Gilbert do?" I pulled away from his hand quickly, afraid of what he might think. I noticed that he had a kind face; unlike the way Gilbert's was when he confronted me. He had a Spanish accent that went well with the soft soothing tone of his voice. There was a light in his brown eyes that I longed to kindle within my own.

"He didn't do anything." I mumbled and brushed past him. The less this boy knew, the safer I was.

"What happened to it?" the Spanish boy grabbed my arm and turned my back, drawing a pain filled yelp from me.

"Lo siento." He whispered in pity and understanding, and retracted his hand.

"I don't know what Gilbert told you…" He started and hesitated. "But try to think positive bueno?"

I smiled a little at him, though both of us knew it was fake.

"Thank you." I whispered then passed by him, not looking back to find him inspecting my pain filled movements.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, I don't own Hetalia. So... yes. I tried to update as soon as I could, but with 3 stories going at once it's kind of hard...

* * *

I passed Antonio a few times in the halls, each time he gave me a once over, a speculative look crossing over his joyful features, and every time he was either with Gilbert and Francis or hanging off of the irritable Italian boy I saw around sometimes.

He looked happy.

So why did he act so understanding, giving me sympathetic looks and making sure to find me in the halls whenever he could. I hated it; it made me want to hide.

He had to know, Gilbert must have told him. I felt like crying but that didn't seem like an option for me anymore.

I was dreading Creative Writing class, dreading any interaction I had to have with Gilbert. His words were burned into my brain, he didn't understand my situation but it was true all the same. I am useless.

I threw my things into my bottom locker with as much force as I could and slammed the door shut with my foot, sliding carefully down the front of the lockers till I reached the floor. Each time the cool metal brushed against a bruise I winced.

Alfred used to bring lunch for me, but it seemed he forgot. It had been happening for a year now, and for the past couple months he had forgotten entirely. I sighed and closed my eyes, begging for the sleep that would help me escape the pain.

"Bloody bastard." I opened my eyes to see Arthur approaching fast, reaching for his locker, which was situated above mine. Before I had time to react his foot smashed into my side, drawing a strangled gasp of pain from my lips. Arthur jumped back with a girlish shriek, the textbook he had in his hands flying forward landing directly on my bruised stomach.

What happened next was a complete disaster.

The shrill scream gurgled from the back of my throat before I could stop it, catching the attention of everyone in the hallway eating their lunches. Through my haze of pain I saw Antonio run forward, leaving the Italian kid behind him gaping.

"Matthew?!" Antonio fell to his knees in front of me, trying to pry my hands away from my stomach. I was coughing, hard, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe. I tried to stop hearing Arthur's frantic yelling and Antonio's hands. Concentrating only on each labored breath my lungs pulled in through the pain.

My focus was broken though when I was lifted from the ground, Antonio's worried eyes meeting mine as he carried me hurriedly through the hallway and into an empty classroom.

"¿Qué demonios?!" He cried as he set me down on a desk. I had my eyes shut again, cutting off everyone and every thing, though his voice still crept in.

"Let me see your stomach." I curled into myself, protecting my bruised stomach.

"Let me see your stomach!" He wrenched me around and peeled my shirt and hoodie up with a ferocious and incredibly worried gleam in his eye. When my stomach was exposed I shivered at the bareness while I watched his entire face pale.

"¡Dios mío!" He whispered and took a few steps back. "Matthew." His gaze shifted to mine and I looked away.

"Don't tell." I whispered and his eyebrows drew together.

"What?"

"Don't tell." I repeated louder and his crumpled eyebrows flew up in surprise.

"No, you are going to die if this continues amigo." He tentatively reached out and ran his fingertips over the purple stained skin that covered my prominent ribcage. Even the slightest touch had me flinching away.

"Don't tell." I closed my eyes again and pulled my shirt down. "Don't tell."

He sighed and waked few steps away, bringing his hands up and running them through his hair.

"When was the last time you ate?"

I held up two fingers and his hands clenched. "Two days? What did you eat?"

I looked away. The last thing I ate was some bread a little girl had given me, which she was supposed to feed to the ducks at the pond we were at. I had no idea what possessed her to do that but I was grateful.

Antonio pushed the heels of his hands to his eyes and took a deep breath. "I am here for you Matthew, don't forget it. I will bring you lunch from now on." He walked forward and put a hand on my shoulder.

I flinched away from the contact but his hand stayed. "I know how it is to be hated in that way, even for the short time I had to endure it, it was still unbearable. I will help you amigo."

He walked away with clenched fists a determined look igniting his brown eyes.

* * *

I moved slowly from the desk, allowing my stomach time to stop churning. Antonio was long gone and I was pretty sure lunch was over; Creative Writing was my next class.

I didn't know how I could still be hungry. With the constant feeling of nausea and the painful throbbing of my stomach I shouldn't crave the food I smelled from lunch. People who had witnessed the accident stared at me for a little bit as I passed them then turned away, uninterested once more.

My backpack was already packed for my next and Arthur was nowhere to be found, the textbook was also gone. He had probably already forgotten about the occurrence.

I walked slowly, letting myself adjust from lying down, clenching and unclenching my stomach when it seemed like I was going to start dry heaving like I had this morning. Going through that twice in one day was not ideal. Alfred's loud voice trailed to my ears from the next hallway over, I guess the loud obnoxious kid from my childhood was still there.

I was the one who was different.

The classroom was fairly empty when I walked in, but I guess I was a little bit early. Gilbert was the only one that I really recognized, but I avoided him like the plague; sitting as far away as possible.

I pulled out the fake paper and placed it on my desk, ready to be picked up by the teacher. I kept a hand on the page, tensed and pressing downwards so that no one could take it away but the teacher when he came. I didn't need another occurrence like yesterdays. I was glad I did because only a minute after, a pale hand flashed down on top of it and started pulling.

"No." I whispered yet he persisted. I pressed my fingers down harder and he grunted in surprise.

"I have already read it, what's the big deal?" I kept my eyes down, unwilling to see the expression on his face. Was there malice in his ruby eyes? Was he smirking?

"Fine." He walked away and joined a group of boys that had walked in; talking loudly as if nothing had happened.

"Why did he want your paper?" I jumped and turned to the voice, meeting incredibly dark expressionless eyes. The boy was either Japanese or Chinese, I couldn't really tell. He waited patiently for my answer, never once shifting his gaze.

"I don't know." I whispered, and he sighed. Saying nothing, he returned to his seat and pulled out a thick book. I ignored the fact that he was reading it backwards and turned my gaze to where the teacher was starting the class.

"I will collect your papers now, please have them at the top of your desk for me to collect." He walked around the classroom, swiping up papers into the stack in his arms and shooting looks of distain at those with empty desks. He snatched away my paper, just like all the others, I tried not to acknowledge the fact that the entire thing was a huge lie. He didn't look at me, I watched him walk away before turning to look at Gilbert. It was an impulsive thing; I wanted to see what he looked like at that moment.

He was looking directly at me. He smirked when he caught my eyes exactly the way I imagined before. I felt sick just remembering that he knew my secret. I looked away to the boy who approached me earlier. He was glancing at Gilbert also then his oblique eyes traveled quickly to mine. I figured he was trying to draw the connection between Gilbert and myself.

"Your next assignment will be in a few weeks, you will be partnered in pairs of three and required to write a collective story from the point of view of three different people. There has to be a plot and the characters cannot be yourselves. It has to be at least twenty pages long." He pulled a paper from a folder resting on his desk and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"I will be assigning your groups, let me see, Tracey, Hannah and Feliciano." There was a quick 've!' from the back of the room, which he glanced at before continuing.

"David, Rian, and Elly; Gilbert, Matthew, and Kiku." I stopped breathing.

* * *

Yay! The classmates are fake names that I just used for convenienze. (minus Feliciano) I hope you like the new chapter! Thank you those who reviewed I really appreciate it! Please review and ask questions I love answering them. If you want to read anything else you can read He Paints The Color Red by muself (also a PruCan)

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or my friend Wasabi97's stories

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s/8977182/1/

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-Serenity MS


	4. Chapter 4

I haven't updated this story in a bit so I decided what the hell I am going to write till I run out of patients to sit in one place. Luckily for you I was just in a two hour car ride without wifi...so you get a new chapter! Yay me! I hope you like it. I am going to be doing something new for this story, which is switching point of views. Mostly it is going to be Matthew's point of view but Gilbert should be in there too. -Serenity Ma Sogni

Also just a reminder, I really want this story to be popular so please if you **do **like this story **favorite it!**

* * *

Gilbert's POV

I whipped around to see Matthew's reaction and threw a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.

At first he went pale, (which was saying something because the kid was always pale), his eyes went wide, then he burst out into a fit of coughing. I bit into my hand and hit my smile.

Matthew just too fun to mess with.

I had switched around the partners of course, the Teacher wouldn't notice and Kiku was one of the best writers in the class so it worked out nicely.

I turned to look at Kiku in the back of the room, and was surprised to find him looking at Matthew. He had stopped coughing by now, but the black haired boy was staring so intently I was worried. What could he possibly be thinking behind those expressionless eyes?

I shrugged it off and turned back to Matthew. I wonder how we are going to interact together? Matthew's writing is always so dark and frightful, Kiku's is systematic and peaceful while mine is usually comical and uplifting. Quite the variety.

Lunchtime was unfortunate. Antonio is getting involved with Matthew, which is something I had truly hoped wouldn't happen. If they bonded over past experiences I wouldn't know what to do. Though Antonio's past situation was extremely mild compared to what I had read in Matthew's paper.

Now that I had read the thing I could see the signs Matthew shows of it, but he hides it pretty well. Extremely well. I worried a bit about that; if he could hide it so well it obviously meant that this wasn't new and it was a common occurrence. Though, because he hid it so well it must not be that bad of a situation.

I had seen the book incident though, it was hard not to, Matthew's scream seemed to still be ringing in my ears. He had got to of have some kind of injury there before the book fell on him or else he wouldn't have had that big of a reaction. The reaction though, was questionable.

If he were someone who was regularly abused wouldn't he be used to pain? I never heard anything coming from his house, even though there are a few houses in between ours.

I sighed and put my head down on my desk. Matthew was exaggerating and it was obvious, there was no way it could be as bad as he described in his paper and him still be functioning without it showing enough to be noticed. He would have to be one hell of an actor.

My mind immediately started racing with the possibilities that this project could entail. Both Gilbert and Kiku could find out the extent of the abuse that occurs at the house. My complicated schedule would prove to be suspicious. There was no way I could have them over to my house to work on the project, and there was no way Mother would let me out of the house on weekends or after school.

If we worked on it at lunch they would notice wither Antonio bringing lunch to me (if he remembered) and ask me about it, or the fact that I don't have food.

This would also mean extended periods of time spent together where any range of things could expose me.

I struggled to control my breathing and clenched my hands together tightly. It had all been going to smoothly lately, why did this have to happen? Why did Gilbert have to shove his way in?

So many things so many choices to make, words to say, actions to make as to not arouse suspicion needed to be planned, so many lies needed to be spun. It was so dangerous; anything could end up getting me killed or worse. They could get hurt.

I shivered. If anyone else got dragged into this mess I wouldn't know what to do, I can't lie for four people, I would go insane with the magnitude of the situation baring down on me.

I felt Kiku's intense gaze on my back and tried not to to flinch. Kiku was too perceptive, I determined, he could easily figure out everything if I gave him the opportunity.

"Please meet with your groups." The teacher droned and Gilbert leapt up in the corner of my vision. He strutted confidently to Kiku's table and turned to look at me. He raised an eyebrow, almost like a challenge, and I swallowed in worry.

I gathered my things in a pile and tucked them close to my chest before placing a sturdy hold on the side of the table and pushing away from the seat.

The pain was agony; the swift movement sent my once calm injuries aflame. I choked back a sob and moved as quickly as I could to the back of the room where Kiku sat patiently and Gilbert fidgeted around in his chair. Both examined my stride carefully as I made my way towards them.

As soon as I sat down we pulled out our notebooks. It was habitual in our class and Gilbert smirked as we set them down simultaneously on the desk in front of us.

"Excuse me." Kiku said quietly to me, though gilbert could still hear.

"I don't believe I know your name yet…" He began and I internally sighed. I had hoped one of the smartest kids to be in the school would know my name.

"My name is Matthew Williams." I said in my loudest voice possible. "You may call me what ever makes you the most comfortable." I hesitated. Would this be okay for me to say?

"What would you like for me to address you as?" Kiku looked a little surprised at my knowledge of his culture and he smiled a little in appreciation.

"I believe Matthew-san would be adequate, if you could in tern call me Kiku-san if you wouldn't mind, I would be grateful."

I nodded, and Gilbert snorted. "You are both pansies. So what the hell are we going to do for this plot thing?"

Kiku shrugged nonchalantly and I wracked my brain for ideas. "What genre?" He said quietly and turned his dull eyes to me.

"What do you guys think of speculative fiction? Realistic Fiction about…three characters…or else does anyone want to do fantasy?" Gilbert shook his head vigorously while Kiku responded with a polite 'no'.

"School life?" Kiku suggested and I looked to Gilbert.

"Nah" he declined " don't you think everyone will be doing that? Probably just versions of themselves anyway. What do you guys think about…three famous actors working together on a hit movie, though they grew up together and hate each other?"

My eyebrows shot up at the idea, it certainly was different, I was surprised to find that I liked it.

"What would we have in it?" Kiku asked and Gilbert laughed. "Comedy of course, maybe they will have some dirty little secrets that they have been keeping in the dark."

"Romance?" Kiku said, and Gilbert turned a little pink. "I was expecting them to be all guys."

Kiku stared impassively at him till Gilbert turned an even deeper shade of red and quickly shot down the idea. Kiku looked a little amused at his reaction but didn't say anything, though he probably wanted to know as badly as I did.

"So…no romance, okay." I said and Kiku jumped a little.

"Excuse me Matthew-san I forgot you were there." Gilbert burst out laughing and Kiku looked apologetically at me with his black eyes.

"That's fine, it happens a lot." I said, and he blinked at me. I immediately knew I said too much and changed the subject quickly.

"When do we meet?" I asked and I saw Gilbert stare intently at me from the corner of my eye.

"What about your house?" He asked forcefully, as if he were proving a point.

"My house will never be available." I responded and he slumped n his seat.

"'When do we meet' was, I believe the question Matthias-san asked." Kiku curtly and Gilbert turned to look at him with a sharp gaze.

"It's Matthew, and what exactly do you mean by that tone?" He glared.

"I was simply stating that you answered Matthew's rudely and incorrectly." He said in a smooth voice, and Gilbert fumed.

"Fine. When do we meet?"

"I can not meet after school or during weekends." Both turned to look at me with raised eyebrows and I tried to meet their gazes confidently.

"I have things to do then." I explained, and Kiku seemed to accept the excuse, though Gilbert took longer to stop his staring.

"Belishmidt-san?" Kiku asked sharply and Gilbert jumped out of his incessant staring.

He mumbled an awkward apology and looked to the paper where Kiku had written everything down in elegant script.

"Should we meet at lunch then?" Kiku finally said, and I nodded. Lunch would be my best option if I didn't want anything to happen. I only hoped everyone would be particularly unobservant for the next few weeks.

* * *

Yes well, Matthew...don't get your hopes up. Alfred should be in the next chapter yay! I actually hate Alfred, but I guess he won't be evil in this one. Tell me what you think, review! Ask questions! I will starve without questions and then there will be no creative juices in my veins because your questions spark new ideas! PLEASE FAVORITE THIS I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER. I want to thank all of the people who have favorited and reviewed for this story, you have all stolen my heart already. Treat it nicely.

-Serenity Ma Sogni


	5. Chapter 5

Here! *steps away* I hoep you like it, it is long as hell and from two perspectives. I love you all, please like my story so I wil be happy. -Serenity M S

* * *

Matthew's POV

I wondered. Did normal people find themselves as lost as l am? Did regular kids find themselves staring at nothing, with nothing on their minds and nothing to look forward to?

I laid in my bed that night, like all the normal other kids, like all the other normal people I encountered every day.

Did they feel like I did? Did these people I see every day who laughed and played, didn't they feel numb and cold like I do?

I wish it were a rarity that I cried. There were a lot of things I wished for. I moved from my bed and shuffled to my backpack, pulling out a piece of paper from a notebook. Wasn't it funny? I stole this notebook from a student last year. I flipped through it and grabbed my pen. I found that pen.

The notebook was filled with writing, it was mine, mine alone. Never would I ever show this to anyone, this notebook was so full of hatred and sadness it felt heavier than a brick.

'Sorrow.' I wrote. I didn't write anymore because I felt dead, I felt so emotionless I wanted to die.

I fell asleep weeping; I guess I actually did feel things.

What a fucking shame.

* * *

Antonio forgot my lunch. I shouldn't have been disappointed, I should have expected it, but when he didn't approach me till the time I was supposed to meet Kiku and Gilbert I couldn't help but feel pain in my chest. A pain other than the bruises.

I walked down the hall carrying my bag that held my writing notebook in it. I hoped to god they wouldn't notice my absence of a lunch, but there was nothing I could do about it.

"Ah, Matthew-san I am glad you are here. Beilschmidt-san has yet to arrive." Kiku stood up and nodded to me as I came into the classroom we were working in.

I pulled out my notebook and flipped to an open page, the sorrow page flashed briefly before my eyes but it disappeared behind another word filled page.

"Beilschmidt-san." I heard Kiku say, but I didn't look up from my notebook.

"Hey." He responded, and the chair next to me screeched out as he pulled it away from the table.

Gilbert threw his lunch and notebook down on the table noisily and sat down with a 'humph'.

"What is up with you?" He asked and tapped my notebook freely.

"Do you have any ideas?"

When I shook my head he sighed and opened his lunch box. "You should talk more." He said through a mouthful of sandwich. I avoided looking at his lunch and breathed through my mouth. I hated that merely being around food would make me want to launch myself at it like a wild animal.

"Beilschmidt-san do _you_ have any ideas?" Kiku asked and pulled out a bento and a pair of chopsticks.

"I have an idea for my character." He responded vaguely and shrugged. He leaned over and opened his notebook, shoving it over so Kiku and I could see what was written.

-blond

-brown eyes

-5'4

-skinny

-wears sandals and unprofessional garments

-eerily calm to the point of acting high

"Acting high?" Kiku asked genuinely confused.

"Bloodshot eyes, euphoria, slowed speech, laughter at everything." I said and Gilbert threw me a look.

"How would you know?" He asked and leaned in close. I leaned back and fought a scowl.

"I don't use." I said and he looked at me suspiciously.

"But you know someone who does?" I ignored his question and looked to Kiku.

"Do you think this will be okay to turn in to school? It seems kind of risky."

Kiku opened his mouth but Gilbert interrupted him. "Hey! If you can write about gruesome murder, I can write about someone getting high!"

I ignored him again and turned pointedly to Kiku.

"I believe it would be alright for Beilschmidt-san to do this with his character." He said, and Gilbert smiled cheekily. I remained impassive. I didn't like that fact that there was going to be people getting high in the story, mostly because my whole house smelled like pot and I hated the stuff, but if it kept Gilbert happy I wouldn't put up a fight. Not that I would have put up a fight anyway.

"He is going to be pretty short?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Short people are awesome, I just think it would be hilarious for him to be a professional actor who is shorter than everyone else. It would be so awesome if he was forgotten all the time, or people knocked into him."

I clenched my hands together under the table. Yes that would be hilarious wouldn't it? Was my life hilarious to him also?

"Matthew-san where is your lunch?" Kiku asked, and I internally winced.

"I forgot it this morning." I mumbled, and Gilbert drowned out of the corner of my eye, Kiku smiled knowingly and handed me an apple he seemed to have packed along with his bento.

I wanted to stare at the offering, I wanted to say 'really? I get food?' I wanted to be sarcastic and cynical, telling him not to pity me but all I did was accept the red fruit. Mt god it felt good to hold a piece of food, knowing that at any time you could eat it.

I bit into it uncertainly, which was an odd contrast to the raging monster of hunger in my stomach. The first bite was the best, juicy, hard, sweet and crisp. I didn't know anything could taste as good as the apple did at that moment.

"My god Matthew, it's just an apple." I turned to Gilbert to find that he had a deep blush on his face and a look of disbelief, Kiku watched me with a quirked eyebrow but I went back to my apple, eating it rapidly.

"Matthew-san" Kiku said quietly and I looked to him. "Never mind." He said, and his shoulders slumped a little.

"I believe we don't really have a lot to talk about right now about out project, as none of us have really gone in depth into our characters as of right now. Would it be prudent to have a fully character analysis by the day after tomorrow? We will still meet tomorrow, though plot would be the best topic of discussion." Kiku rose gracefully from his chair and grabbed his bag.

"I hope you have a nice evening." Then he walked smoothly out of the room.

An awkward silence was left in his wake.

"So… what really happened to your lunch?" Gilbert asked, and glanced at me sneakily, taking a step forward.

"I forgot it." I said. I really didn't want him to press this issue, but there was a glint in his red eye that guaranteed his persistence.

"Lame excuse, you didn't have one yesterday either."

"How do you know that?" I countered, annoyed that he was paying closer attention than I anticipated. A worrying amount of attention.

"You caused a lot of commotion yesterday, then disappeared with one of my best friends into an empty classroom. Believe me, I noticed."

I stayed silent and started to pack up my things, but he put a pale hand on my bag.

"You going to lie again? Or are you going to tell me?"

I looked up to glare at him but he had already steadied a narrowed eye at me.

"I left it at home." I repeated. Gilbert's fist clenched and he gripped his bag tightly.

"Who are you protecting here?" He said, and walked out of the room. I didn't turn to watch him go, but I knew he would walk away with a haughty jaunt.

Who was I protecting? Myself of course, and anyone else who would adopt me if I were to report my mother to CPS (child protective services).

Gilbert thought he understood, but he is arrogant, foolish. Gilbert does not think things through, and the consequences of his actions usually affect everyone with the exception of him. I would be receiving no help from the albino.

* * *

Gilbert's POV

"Gilbert, I think I have forgotten something muy importante. I don't remember at all though!"

I turned to glare at Antonio, who insisted on following me to the classroom pestering me, hence making me late.

"Look Toni, I have no idea what you could have forgotten and frankly I don't care, but I need to go. Okay? See you later." Antonio nodded and smiled gaily (no pun intended).

"Adios!" He cried and spun away probably to go bother Lovino.

I walked in, swinging my bag and scanning the room before Kiku stood up.

"Beilschmidt-san." He said, and then sat back down, gesturing to a seat next to Matthew, who was bent over an overly used notebook. Matthew flipped through the pages rapidly, stopping for a second on an almost blank page before picking up the pace again. He settled on a blank page as I walked up to the table they occupied.

"Hey." I pulled out the chair next to Matthew, and he kept his eyes to himself. I quickly looked over him; looking for any details I could to pinpoint new facts about him.

Matthew wore a red hoodie, baggy and stained, along with some oversized blue jeans and equally big black convers, if you could even call them that, as they were torn beyond belief.

When he bent over the notebook I could just barely make out the bones of his spine, protruding abnormally from his skin. I knew Matthew was skinny, you could tell just from how baggy his clothes were on him, but to be able to see the bones of his spin through his shirt and sweatshirt?

I was worried. Matthew still hadn't looked up as I threw my lunch down on the table in front of us; completely ignoring my attempt to get my attention.

"What's up with you?" I said and tapped the blank page he was staring at. "Do you have any ideas?" I knew he didn't, the kid was constantly lost in his own thoughts.

He shook his head and refused to meet my eyes, my anxiety increased. What if he stopped talking? Was he that depressed? The kid could take a little pain couldn't he? I unwrapped my sandwich from my lunch box and took a big bite, relishing a little in the taste of the thing.

"You should talk more." I said, and he flinched a little, he kept his eyes down.

"Beilschmidt-san do _you_ have any ideas?" Kiku asked and pulled out a small box from his bag. He picked up a pair of chopsticks effortlessly and opened the box to eat.

"I have an idea for my character." I said. Shit, did that sound too defensive? Did they think I am an idiot?

I pulled out my writing notebook, also pretty used, and flipped to the page where I wrote my description.

I had actually seen this man walking in the street and in my mind made him a complete character.

He was extremely short, skinny, and blonde. I imagined him to be laid back when on pot, and fidgety when not. Almost like he is itching to get back to the bliss. The man I saw had watery brown eyes, perfect for the character I had imagined for him.

I pushed the notebook out for them to see, and Matthew's usual placid facial expression twitched a bit when he read the part about the character being a pot addict.

"Acting high?" Kiku turned to me, with a questioning look. I was surprised though, when Matthew explained before I could.

"Bloodshot eyes, euphoria, slowed speech, laughter at everything." I stared at him, and he glanced a little at me, frowning.

"How would you know?" I asked, and leaned in close. That flash of brilliant purple I had been waiting for had me captured, but he leaned back quickly and looked away.

"I don't use." He quipped, and I immediately suspected his mother. Okay, maybe the household environment was worse than I had originally thought.

"But you know someone who does?" I asked, but he ignored me. That only confirmed my theory about his mother.

"Do you think this will be okay to turn in to school? It seems kind of risky."

Matthew asked, in his quiet voice, and Kiku stopped in his eating to consider. I on the other hand, went to immediately defend my idea, as almost the whole character depended on his drug use.

"Hey! If you can write about gruesome murder, I can write about someone getting high!" The irony was crazy; this kid was one of the most depressing writers I had ever seen, writing about murders of all kinds, suicide, and horror.

I almost blew my top when he ignored me for a second time, turning obviously to Kiku.

"I believe it would be alright for Beilschmidt-san to do this with his character." Kiku said, and I smiled in mock to Matthew who looked disappointed.

"He is going to be pretty short?" he asked after a few seconds and I nodded enthusiastically.

"Short people are awesome, I just think it would be hilarious for him to be a professional actor who is shorter than everyone else. It would be so awesome if he was forgotten all the time, or people knocked into him."

I immediately wanted to suck my words right back up when I realized what I had said. Matthew was constantly being pushed around at school, as if he weren't there. People forgot about him on a daily basis.

I pretended not to see him clench his thin hands tightly in his lap; I could hardly tell there was skin stretched over the protruding bones.

"Matthew-san where is your lunch?" Matthew stilled in all movements and slid his beautiful eyes to Kiku.

"I forgot it this morning." That was a lie, it might not have been obvious to Kiku, but it was obvious to me. The reason Matthew didn't have a lunch was much more than he simply forgot it.

I was about to offer him something of mine, when Kiku dug in his bag, producing a big red apple.

Matthew's reaction was incredible, first he stared at the apple, as if it weren't real, then he stretched out a bony hand and took the fruit. He held it delicately, almost reverently, and then took a big bite out of the thing. Matthew's eyebrows scrunched together almost in bliss as he chewed the bite; he was completely unaware of us watching him.

The sight was…slightly weird; the contrast of the bright red of the apple against Matthew's fair skin was beautiful, and the way his blonde hair shone added a lovely shade to the scene.

Weird only in the way that I was completely captivated by him.

I shook myself a little when I saw Kiku's stunned expression, and cleared my throat. "My god Matthew, it's just an apple."

He seemed to snap out of his revere, holding the apple tightly in his hand, as if he thought we would take it away from him.

"Matthew-san" Kiku opened his mouth to continue, but stopped himself. "Never mind." He said and looked away dejectedly. I wondered what he could be thinking.

"I believe we don't really have a lot to talk about right now about out project, as none of us have really gone in depth into our characters as of right now. Would it be prudent to have a fully character analysis by the day after tomorrow? We will still meet tomorrow, though plot would be the best topic of discussion." I was a little stunned by Kiku's long speech; he was usually quiet.

Well, there was loud, like Feliciano, Lovino, Alfred, Arthur, and Myself. There was normal, like France, usually Antonio, Yao, and Ivan. There was quiet, like Kiku, Heracles, and Sadiq, and then there was virtually nonexistent, like Matthew.

Kiku picked up his things hurriedly and walked out the door. He had no expression on his face, only the small frown he usually wore as he exited the door. After he left, there was complete and utter silence that grew even more insufferable with each passing second.

"So… what really happened to your lunch?" I stepped forward, effectively giving him a sense of being cornered. I hoped this would intimidate him enough to tell me the truth.

"I forgot it." He said, and crossed his arms around himself. When did his arms get so skinny?

"Lame excuse, you didn't have one yesterday either."

"How do you know that?" He snapped, and I realized my misstep. I wasn't supposed to know that he was missing lunches; he probably wanted to protect his mother who wouldn't support hi enough to give him one.

"You caused a lot of commotion yesterday, then disappeared with one of my best friends into an empty classroom. Believe me, I noticed." Was this the right was to go? To push him into telling me? Would he trust me? He spun away and started packing his things in silence.

I immediately pressed a hand on his bag before he could leave me behind.

"You going to lie again? Or are you going to tell me?"

I glared at him, letting my eyes pierce into his beautiful purple ones. They were so deep, so dead, I wished I could bring back a sparkle to them. I knew they would be even more beautiful once Matthew was actually happy.

"I left it at home." He repeated, and I felt anger flare through me. Screw his beautiful eyes. I wanted to help him, why was he protecting his mother so much? Shouldn't he hate her with all his might? Why would he sacrifice his own safety for her?

"Who are you protecting here?" I said, and walked away. I knew he wouldn't watch me walk away so I let my shoulders slump, and I dragged my feet. I felt defeated and useless.

I wanted Matthew to shine so badly, his situation was hardly enough to keep him down.

* * *

Ah! done! I hope this is acceptable since it is pretty much 3,000 words. Ya, add that to He Paints The Color Red and my shit load of homework and then you eill see a bit of what my week looks like. Oh ya, did I mention I am also doing two sports and writing for a school newspaper? *dies* I want to sic a Romano on my teachers.

Tell me what you think! I really don't care about what, just talk to me. I WANT TO HEAR YOUR PRETTY LITTLE VOICES!

-Serenity Ma Sogni


	6. Chapter 6

Matthew POV

"You don't have a lunch again."

I sighed and tried not to glare at Gilbert and he very noticeably glared at me.

"That is none of your business." I said coldly and he scoffed.

"If you die from starvation it isn't my fault." I jerked a little at his words and clenched my teeth in anger.

"I wouldn't expect you to care anyway."

Gilberts eyes flashed and he opened his mouth, only to be stopped by Kiku walking in the room.

"Matthew-san, Beilschmidt-san." He nodded his head towards us and set his things down, ignoring the tension in the air perfectly.

"I believe we should begin if we are ever going to get this project done." He glimpsed at me and let his eyes travel down and back up.

I could only imagine what he was thinking.

"Ya sure." Gilbert rolled his eyes and threw his lunch onto the table across from where Kiku was sitting.

I tensed my body and walked rigidly to the chair next to Kiku, the pain in my leg burning like fire with every step.

Mother had burned it last night; even though my jeans were large they still brushed up against the small circles of burnt flesh making me want to cry out and stay still for the rest of the day.

I had finished my character last night; it was the only thing that could keep me from thinking about my life and my mother. I pulled out my notebook and almost gasped when I saw the blood from last night on the cover, and the corners of the pages. There was no way I would be able to lie about it.

I hid my notebook behind my back, standing up from my chair, drawing the attention of the other two. Kiku looked surprised and slightly worried, while Gilbert's eyes narrowed.

"I need to go to the restroom, I will be right back." I spun around, simultaneously bringing the notebook to my chest so they couldn't see it and walked quickly from the room, ignoring the hellfire that burned up my leg.

I raced down the halls, ducking out of the way of passing students as I made my way to the bathroom.

As soon as I made it in the door, I grabbed a few paper towels, and shoved them under the faucet, making sure they were wet before scrubbing at the blood on the cover.

It came off easily, and I was lucky, but the pages would have to be ripped out. I felt blood trickle down my leg from the burns and cursed inwardly, hopefully it wouldn't bleed through the jeans or else I wouldn't know what I would do.

I ripped out the pages viciously and shoved the pages in the pockets of my large hoodie. The blood had already reached my sock, and continued to stream down my leg.

I grabbed some paper towels and pulled up my pant leg disgusted by the gruesome wounds. The skin around the burns was irritated and stained with crimson blood. Pus and blood seemed to leak out of the small circles and my empty stomach lurched at the sight.

I dabbed at the dripping blood, stopping it from running and further down my leg.

"Haha! Ya I see ya!" I jumped at the loud laugh and teetered precariously, trying not to fall.

Alfred stepped into the bathroom alone, a happy grin stretched onto his face. His blue eyes scanned the bathroom before stopping on me, his grin immediately dropped.

"Mattie?" He whispered, and dropped to the ground by my leg.

"Who did this to you Mattie?!" He whispered furiously and looked up at me when I didn't say anything.

"You- It's your mom right? He blinked, trying to remember. "Or was it your dad? Mattie you gotta tell me!" Blood dripped onto my hand, startling me into pressing the rough paper against the burns again, completely ignoring the blonde in front of me.

How many times had I had to explain this to Alfred and how many times was he going to forget? How many times would I have to feel the pain of him helping me then leaving me behind?

"Matthias?" My head shot up, a glare making its way unheeded to my face. Of all the years I knew Alfred he had **never** forgotten my name. **Ever.** Oh god it hurt like hell.

"My name is Matthew." I whispered and threw the bloodied paper towel away, running to the bathroom door before he could stop me.

I ran all the way out the doors of the school, no one stopped me; no one cared enough to.

By then my legs were bleeding like crazy, and I limped away from the school, the pain from moving my leg hurt too damn much.

I would have hell to pay for this, my mother would find out I skipped and would be furious and I left Kiku and Gilbert behind.

I clenched my hands in my hair and let out a chocked sob, squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as possible.

Never before had I wanted to die so much, Alfred had forgotten me, he was the only one I thought I could count on remembering at all and I thought wrong.

No one would even fucking miss me.

I dropped to the concrete, much like I had the first time Gilbert talked to me and tried not to cry. Blood dripped from my jeans.

The silence of the street around me egged me on, I couldn't stand silence; it unnerved me. I pulled myself up and started to walk towards the woods that framed the sidewalk.

The smell of trees was the first thing that hit my senses, and it strangely calmed me. The call of birds and the rustling of the leaves as they blew in the wind was majestic, it was so different than the suffocating school environment.

I shuffled through the tall trees, never feeling as small as I had then, but small in a good way. I felt I could grow here amongst the swaying trees.

I laid down at the base of one, throwing off the large sweatshirt and rolling up the blood soaked pant legs. The way my ribs poked out from my chest was disturbing, the fact that they were crooked and not healed properly was even worse.

I smiled and let the wind play with my hair, loving how when the wind blew it against my face it felt like a soft caress. I longed for that kind of loving touch.

Tears fell down my cheeks, and for the first time, I cried without regrets. I smiled gratefully at the green leaves above me and they swayed in response, tears leaked from my eyes and I let them close, breathing in the wonderful freedom the forest brought me.

Freedom. What a beautiful thought.

I woke up with the lowering sun, a hazy orange stretched across the sky tinged with pink.

I immediately rolled over and puked blood, coughing the red liquid out of my throat while my whole body shook.

I should have gone straight home; I was probably going to die out here.

The leaves shifted underneath me as I crawled back towards the road where I had come. The sound of cars was comforting, and I stopped to cough up more blood. I needed my medicine… badly.

As I reached the end of the woods I pushed myself up, tremors now shaking my body violently.

I limped down the sidewalk in the direction of my house as the sky darkened to a deep purple. Soon it would be completely black.

I almost cried when I saw my street, my will to live was too great. I had suffered to much to just up and die, I had to make my existence meaningful before I could die. The only way to live was to go back into that house, endure the abuse, blood, and torture and make a difference in someway possible.

I **couldn't **die.

I limped up to the door, knocking on it with as much force as I could. I felt dizzy, I could feel another blood filled cough in the back of my throat.

The door was thrown open my mother, a crazed angry look in her eyes as she hissed in anger.

"**You." **She grabbed me and threw me into the house, the blank anger completely without coherency scared me.

She shoved me to the ground and stormed away, making loud crashes as she moved through the small house.

She came back with my bottle of pills and a knife. She grinned wickedly, throwing open the pill bottle cap and dishing out three pills.

She grabbed my chin forcefully; her long nails digging into my jaw, forcing my mouth open.

She shoved my pills into my mouth, which I swallowed eagerly. The relief was immediate, and I knew as long as I had my medicine I would live.

She picked up the knife with her long fingers; tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You come home **every day** Matthew. EVERY DAY!" She screamed and slashed my cheek with the knife, which immediately started bleeding heavily.

"You almost died!" I was shaking still, I had though the pills would have taken care of that but apparently they didn't. I pulled a trembling hand up to my cheek, pressing on the wound weakly, trying to stop the bleeding.

The woman jerked up where she towered over me, her tears dripping onto my hoodie.

"Stop ruining my life." She whispered and dropped the knife a few inches from my burned leg. She spun on her heel and ran to the bedroom, no doubt to go get high.

"Stop killing mine." I whispered, and let the darkness take over me.

Holy fuck. I am so mean to my characters! Don't worry people, Gilbert will be coming in for a rescue soon enough.

Tell me what you think of this chapter! Did it draw tears for anyone? I might just be a baby, but my eyes did water just a bit during the forest part. Sorry for the belated update, I had a lot of shit going on. I also updated HPTCR so if you haven't read that yet it is up ;)

Have an awesome day. –Serenity Ma Sogni


	7. Chapter 7

**Gilbert POV**

It has been three days since Matthew's hurried exit from our lunch meeting, three days since I saw the blood on his notebook, three days since I saw a pale Alfred mumbling something about Matthew.

I was freaking out.

Kiku and I sat in the lunchroom, both of us watching the door anxiously. If I was freaked out, Kiku was going insane. The Japanese boy, who rarely ever showed what he was really thinking, fidgeted in his chair; his usually unreadable gaze was trained on the door, hope and sadness present in the dark brown depths of his eyes.

I put my head down on the table and sighed, closing my eyes in desperation. I should have **done something**. I saw the blood, I read the note, I saw the injuries, I ignored him again and again.

How many times did I push away all of the things in front of me?

I heard some rustling and an intake of breath. "Matthew-san?!" I whipped my head up, eyes flying open and looking to the door where Matthew was entering. I felt my eyes bug and my mouth fall open as I took in Matthew's appearance as he limped into the room.

His blonde hair was greasy and matted; I could tell it hadn't been brushed in a long time. He limped heavily, almost dragging his left leg behind him, I could tell every time he put pressure or moved the leg at all it hurt him like crazy. He didn't lift his head as he approached at the agonizingly slow pace and I looked at Kiku.

His brown eyes were wide in horror as they tracked Matthew's progress. He winced when Matthew eased himself into the seat across from him and placed his notebook on the table.

I noticed the small stains of blood he failed to remove. It made me feel sick.

"Where the hell were you for the past three days? We are going to miss the fucking deadline for this paper!" Why was I such an ass? Why couldn't I stop?

"If I get an F on this because you decided it would be fun to-" I stared in horror, all words leaving my mouth, all thoughts leaving my brain except for one.

No. No. No. No. The word repeated itself in my head as I looked at Matthew's face, as he had raised it to look at me as I berated him.

Kiku chocked in horror and disgust.

Almost the entire right half of Matthew's face was covered in a big thick bandage, his left eye was swollen shut and stained a deep gruesome purple. Bruises of a variety of different colors were spread across his face in all different sizes and shapes.

Someone had beaten the shit out of Matthew.

My mouth was hanging open, and I left it there, as Matthew stared at me. I let my eyes wander down his body, looking for any other injuries.

His right hand was bandaged thickly and his fingernails were short and bloody. All the cuticles were torn off around the edges and I could see another bandage on his left hand, though it was slightly smaller.

That didn't detract from anything though. The way he had limped in, I wondered what could possibly have happened to his legs.

"What happened Matthew-san?" Kiku's voice was thick with emotion; it was so unusual for the Japanese boy.

"Please, please tell me." Tell me. Tell me**. **I wanted Matthew to tell **me.**

"There were some guys who were blackmailing me, that's why I had to leave school. They beat me up when I didn't comply to what they wanted."

"And _what_ exactly did they want?" I asked, not believing him for a second.

He shot me a glare that –with his injuries- made him look scary. And sad. Matthew always looks sad.

"I can't tell you that." He said.

"Did you tell the police?" Kiku asked, and I hoped he didn't believe Matthew's story too.

"No." Matthew said.

"Mattie?" All of us jumped at the new voice. It was like we were in our own interrogation. I glared at Alfred, who was looking in the room carefully.

"Do you know where Matthew is?" He asked, and Matthew sighed. Alfred called Matthew Mattie? Why did that make me angry?

"I'm right here Alfred." Matthew stepped limped towards Alfred so that he could see him more clearly in the doorway.

"Hey!" Alfred leaned forward with arms extended as if to give Matthew a hug but at the frantic shaking of Matthew's head he stopped. Glancing down at Matthew's torso he nodded in acknowledgement with a small 'ohh'.

"What the hell is wrong with your torso?" I asked and Alfred looked up at me happily.

"Well, It isn't his torso more his rib-"

"That isn't important!" Matthew said and put a hand on Alfred's arm.

"Was there something you wanted Alfred?"

"Oh ya!" The blonde held out a brown bag, full of food. Matthew's eyes widened dramatically.

"I brought ya' lunch. Didn't think you would be having one so I brought it. I remembered!" He exclaimed happily, and thrust the bag into Matthew's hands. I noticed him wince at something being in his hands.

"Thank you Alfred." Matthew said and Alfred patted Matthew on the arm, though he flinched away. Alfred seemed to think this was normal because he just laughed and turned away from the door.

"See ya!"

Matthew limped back to where Kiku and I were sitting and eased himself once again into one of the chairs. Now with a lunch box in front of him. He winced again.

"So what the hell is wrong with your ribs?" I asked, and he glanced at me.

"Nothing." He answered, and I scowled at the blonde boy.

"Nothing my ass, what the hell is wrong with them?"

"Nothing! It's none of your business!"

"It is our business!" Kiku exclaimed and Matthew flinched.

"It's our business because we care!" He explained, and Matthew shut his eye tight. The other was already swollen shut so tightly he couldn't close it anymore.

"Theyerebr'kn." He mumbled and I leaned in.

"What?"

"They were broken." He said a little louder, and winced at our outraged and astonished reactions.

God damn it.

Why the hell?

No.

"Matthew-san." Kiku whispered.

"How many?" I asked, and Matthew blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"How many were broken? How many ribs?"

Matthew's eyes furrowed and he winced a little, bringing his face back to a neutral position.

"Seven." He said calmly, and I shot to my feet.

"**Seven out of your twelve ribs were broken?!" **I nearly screamed and Matthew got to his feet too, limping away with his bag.

"I can't deal with this right now, I can't handle your screaming at me." He whispered loudly enough that Kiku and I could hear it.

He slipped out the door quietly.

"We could have handled that so much better." Kiku whispered from his seat, and slumped his head onto his arms, which were resting on the table.

"How does he expect help if he doesn't fucking tell us!" I snarled and kicked a chair. It crashed to the floor loudly and I clenched my hands. I hated the fact that Matthew got so hurt.

"Maybe he has a good reason?"

"What? The imaginary blackmailers will come get him? Give me a fucking break."

Kiku sighed loudly.

"I don't want to believe in any other alternative." He mumbled, and I gripped my writing notebook.

"Ya, well someone has to." I said, glaring at the door.

Matthew forgot his lunch.

* * *

I really kind of hate this chapter. I think it sucks. I am really sorry for the poor dialogue and layout. It just kind of….well here are my excuses: I tried doing this scene over seven times over this week and the break and yet again it still sucks so please don't judge tooo harshly. I hope you review. Flame and I will be sad. Good reviews inspire me to write more. Questions make me cry for joy. As you can probably tell, I am tired and I will probably edit this tomorrow.

-Serenity Ma Sogni

Oh, and chapter 18 is up for HPTCR, it is much better than this chapter, I promise.


	8. Chapter 8

I grabbed Matthew's lunch and stalked towards the door, only stopping when I was half way down the hallway and I felt Kiku's unexpected presence beside me.

"Why are you coming?" I asked, and Kiku turned his now lifeless eyes to me.

"I care about Matthew-san also, I do not wish to see him hurt." I nodded slowly, not really liking the idea of Kiku being so involved. Though, with him there I figured he could be accommodating.

"Where do you think he went?" Kiku asked, and I looked down the crowed hallway.

"I think I know." I muttered and walked quickly to the bathroom, opening the door slowly as to not alert him of our entrance.

"Jesus Christ Mattie." Both Kiku and I jumped at the loud voice, and I scowled when I placed it to be Alfred's words.

"I bandaged these up just this morning and they are already soaked through!"

I heard Matthew huff at the words and I clenched my teeth together. So Alfred was the one that got to treat Matthew's injuries? Did that mean he knew of how Matthew got them?

"They bleed when I walk Alfie, it's fine." Alfred sighed heavily, and I tried to ignore the fact that both Matthew and Alfred called each other intimate nicknames.

"I thought your mom didn't smoke." Alfred said quietly and I inched forward, wanting to see what was going on.

"A lot has changed since we last talked Alfred." I inched forward just in time to see Alfred's face fall his Matthew's words, and to see what exactly was going on.

Matthew's whole left leg was covered in fresh bandages, though little spots of red were seeping through the white cloth in various places. I looked at Matthew's right leg and resisted the urge to gag at the sight, I heard Kiku inhale sharply as he saw.

There were long lines of blood trailing down the leg from circular injuries that looked like burns. Cigarette burns. Alfred was wetting a paper towel in the sink next to where Matthew was sitting on the counter and brought the wet paper towel to the leg, grimacing as he got close to the wounds.

"You know I am sorry about that Mattie. Matthew. I am really, really sorry." He whispered as he wiped away the running blood, carefully avoiding the burns.

"It's okay Alfred, you couldn't help but forget. Sometimes I wish I would forget it too."

"But you were my west friend. I forgot completely about you." Alfred insisted and Matthew flinched. Whether it was from the burns or from Alfred's words, I couldn't tell.

"You are the one who has to go home every day, and with your…condition."

"Alfred." Matthew's words were sharp and cold. "I thought we agreed to not talk about that." He finished a little more softly.

"I forgot about that too." Alfred pressed and Matthew grimaced, this time I knew it was from Alfred's words.

"Good." Matthew said. "I would be better for you to forget. It would be better for you to just forget about me all together. I can manage on my own."

"That's not how it looked when I found you."

"Yes well, I doubt it will be happening much longer."

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, then suddenly stood up.

"Is she leaving?" He leaned towards Matthew. "Is she finally going to leave?"

Matthew shook his head slowly, taking in Alfred's expression in a guarded way.

"Matthew." Alfred whispered. "You aren't having symptoms already are you?"

"No." Matthew's eyes were wide. "But it could happen any time now."

Alfred made a somewhat gagging sound and dropped to his knees again in front of Matthew.

"You sound like you have given up already." He whispered, and Matthew tried to smile. It looked so pained.

"It is hard not to give up when you know you are going to die."

* * *

Kiku and I scrambled silently out of the bathroom, Matthew 's words ringing in our ears.

Matthew is going to die? Death? Condition?

God he was so bloody; so hopeless; so lost. I couldn't stop seeing the wounds that covered Matthew's legs, as elaborate as the stars in the sky. I couldn't help but see the scars that were present from past injuries how some of them looked years older than the others.

Kiku ran forward to the trashcan across the now empty hall and puked into it, the look of sadness and disgust on his stoic face was disturbing.

"We need to do something." He rasped, wiping his face quickly.

"I don't understand though. He won't tell us anything." I whispered and Kiku shook his head.

"We don't need to understand, we need to help him get away from his mom."

"Do you think Alfred will help us?" I asked and Kiku nodded slowly.

"We will talk to him after school then?"

He nodded again and I watched the varying emotions drain out of his expression, after a few seconds he looked as though he had just come back from the bathroom, not heard a confession of subsequent death.

I wished I could do that also; bury my feelings so deep inside me that I could function without it impairing my judgment and decisive skills.

We parted ways, myself heading for the back door where I would hop the fence and go for nice long walk. Kiku to his next class. The falls of his feet slapping across the hard tile floor of the school was loud in the empty halls. I put Matthew's lunch in front of the lockers across from the bathroom; I hadn't even realized I had been holding it the entire time.

'_It is hard not to give up when you know you are going to die.'_

* * *

Hello readers and people who don't give a shit about the authors comments! (which is a bit redundant since you wouldn't read this anyway) I just want to let you know why I haven't updated in such a LONG time! It is a little thing I am sure you have all expreianced at some point in your lives: writers block. For this particular story alone.

So I am sorry for the wait. I truly am. I hope you all still enjoy reading this depressing stuff that makes me feel sadistic and somewhat entertained. Read, review, ask questions (even if they are totlally bogus and don't relate to the story at all), provide happiness. LOVE LIFE.

I also just wanted to let you know it is almost 2am currently and I refused to let this day pass without updating. (even though it technically has already)

-Serenity Ma Sogni


	9. Chapter 9

Gilbert POV:

I waited impatiently for school to end, the images of Matthew sitting on the counter, blood running down his legs haunted my mind.

I tried very hard not to project my anger outside of my mind; the thought of Matthew hurting to this extent was infuriating and sickening at the same time. I kicked at the grass as I looked out over the park. Children were playing gaily, parents watched their offspring obsessively, and made sure they didn't injure themselves or get into fights with other children.

This blissfully happy sight saddened me; it reminded me of the fact that Matthew had probably never had an easy childhood; it was surprising he is even alive.

Not for long though, according to what he said, that disturbed me. He seemed so sure he was going to die, and they said he had an illness. What could he possibly have?

A gentle breeze blew over the park that didn't match my inner turmoil, everything seemed to be shifting now, and it scared me. I didn't want to explain the reasons I cared so much for a kid I had barely noticed before. I almost wished I hadn't ever picked up that crumpled up piece of paper that told the tale of the first time Matthew's mother had taken a knife to him.

I was so naïve wasn't I? I was scared and dumb. I probably still am now. Was I blind to anything else that was obvious? Was I ignorant to anyone else's pain?

"Damn." I whispered and sat heavily on the grass, the blades swayed underneath me and tickled my legs almost soothingly.

I sucked in a breath and sighed, letting the breath out then just let myself breath calmly, not thinking about anything in particular for a while. It was calming; something I hadn't done in a long time. I brought my arms behind my head and leaned back, letting my eyes close.

I would probably get burned if I stayed out very much longer but I couldn't find it in my self to care. I just didn't want to do anything. I guess I was preparing myself for the emotional turmoil that was sure to come. I had seen way too many people who kept their emotions locked away inside of them fall into a hole of depression, and I knew I needed to be there for Matthew. Even if he wouldn't want me there.

* * *

Matthew's POV:

I pushed down from the sink and unrolled my pant legs down to cover the injuries, newly bandaged by Alfred.

I wished the day would end, I didn't want to face the hours left filled with people, but at the same time I wished school would never end, and I would never have to go home to that house; I would never have to see my mother again.

But that wasn't possible was it? Wishes never come true. After my last morbid comment Alfred's demeanor had quieted exponentially. I wished I could take back the comment but then I would be back to wishing.

What hurt me the most, was that he didn't even try to contradict my way of thinking. Before when we were children and he would bring up my…condition, he would always try to make me see the positive side.

There really was no hope for some people in the world.

When we were little. It seemed so long ago…

I walked into my class going unnoticed, I really could have skipped but that wouldn't get me anywhere. I went back to reminiscing back to when Alfred and I were children.

It was before my mother got as bad as she was now, but she was still in a bad place. She would stare ahead for hours, in an almost comatose like trance that no one could break through. Then she would have fits of uncontrollable rage and break everything around her. When she would get like that and Alfred was around he would grab my little hand and drag me outside where he would crouch down with me in the shade of the house and pray.

He believed in so many things back then. He was so pure and when he was faced with such darkness he just prayed and smiled and told me everything would be okay. He started treating me differently when he found out my mom was abusing me, he treated me like I was fragile then eventually he started to forget. Just like everyone else.

I could remember when we would stay up late together and he would take every problem away for a while, when my dad left Alfred was there to comfort me, he was the only one to ever comfort me.

I jumped when the bell went off, signifying the end of class. I hadn't paid attention the entire class, what was the point?

I repressed a cynical laugh. What was the point if I was just going to die? I wish they had just killed me, I wish I had just died in the first place.

I knew it was coming, I could feel it. Every day now I knew it could start, the medicine would stop working; the effects would slowly but surely start to show. Just thinking about it made my eyes sting with tears, I wanted so badly to live.

"Matthew?" Alfred's cool blue eyes bored into mine as he crossed the now empty classroom towards me.

"Come on, we have biology." He whispered and wrapped his hand around mine carefully and tugging towards the door.

"What am I going to do Alfie?" I whispered, I wished it didn't tremor the way it did.

"He shook his head slowly and gripped my hand tighter, his broad shoulder brushed against mine as we passed through the hallway and he bit his lip. He didn't look at me.

I restrained a chocked gag as I realized how much my end was going to hurt him. I should never have involved him; this was going to be so painful for him to see.

We walked into the classroom and he released my hand, which immediately felt cold. The gesture had been so caring, so close, I longed for the touch again, but it would just hurt him even more if I got any closer.

I eased myself into the chair, my beaten limbs protesting the entire way, and settled. Bright red eyes flashed in my mind and I immediately tried to distract myself from the sudden thought.

I didn't want to think of Gilbert, but it was ultimately too late. I couldn't stop thinking about him once I had started. His behaviour was hurtful, that was obvious, but I couldn't help but see past his hurtful words and see the confusion in his eyes. He had eyes that cared.

It was odd, to look into the eyes of someone who says words that cut deeply and see the honest worry in them. I tried to figure out his reasoning, the meaning behind the way he acted, but it was impossible.

I wasn't Gilbert, I had no idea why he paid attention to me, how he would purposely say things that would make me want to tell him my situation, and how he would be so incredibly perceptive when most didn't acknowledge my presence. Alfred had even forgotten my name and we were as close as brothers.

I couldn't get him out of my mind! I sighed heavily and laid my head down on the desk, wanting for it all to end, but wishing for it so desperately to keep going. I often wonder what it is I actually want.

The bell rung again and this time I wasn't surprised by how quickly class seemed to have gone. I picked up my things and slipped out the door before Alfred could catch me. I walked to my locker as carefully as I could, making sure the jeans didn't rub against my burns too much.

I packed my bag as quickly as I could but took my time making my way out of the school. I hoped I could do the same with the walk home; I wanted to enjoy every moment I was living.

* * *

Hey guys, I have gotten a surprising amount of followers for this story so I will try to pay attention to it more ;) This isn't the story I am focusing on at the moment so this was really **just a filler chapter** because I feel bad for not updating in a while. I hope you liked it! Please favourite and comment, that would be awesome! –Serenity Ma Sogni


	10. Chapter 10

Kiku was the one to grab Alfred before he could leave at the end of the day. We had watched Matthew leave in a hurry, limping slightly with his hands clenched at his sides. He didn't show his pain on his face but I knew he could feel it. He had stopped for a minute on the sidewalk and as Kiku and I watched he took a deep breath, turned his face to the sun, and let the breeze play with his hair.

He looked so beautiful, so at ease in such a random place. I felt my heart jump, but it had to be in pity. Of course I pitied the boy, I had been so cruel.

Then I was back to self-hating.

Kiku had snagged Alfred's shirtsleeve and pulled him over while I tried to pull myself away from the loathing I felt for myself.

The blond's eyebrows had pulled together in confusion and he stared at us for a few seconds before coming to conclusion.

"You guys were the ones meeting with Matthew at lunch!" he exclaimed and we gestured for him to follow us to a more secluded place.

"We want to help Matthew." I said bluntly and both Kiku and Alfred looked at me in shock.

"I have been _awful _to Matthew. I didn't understand what he was going through and I ignored him but I- we, have been seeing how much pain he is in, and we want to do something about it."

Alfred's eyes glimmered and he smiled sadly.

"You guys still don't understand. Matthew doesn't want help. There are so many factors coming into play here that we cant change or control."

"You have been friends with Matthew for a long time is that correct?" Kiku asked quietly and Alfred nodded.

"Then you of all people should know that self sacrifice to spare other people pain is exactly what Matthew is doing and we want you to understand that we will do everything in our power to help him, even if he does not want us to."

Alfred stared at Kiku then at me, his mouth slightly agape.

"Matthew will hate it, he will hate _you_." I tried not to wince at the prospect of what he was implying. Matthew already hated me enough, my heart ached at the thought of him hating me more.

"He has always insisted on doing things on his own, he doesn't want to get other people involved."

Both Kiku and I stayed silent watching him until he finished with his excuses.

"You will need to tell us what we don't already know." Kiku said after a pause, and Alfred looked away quickly, his skin paling a bit.

"It really isn't my place to tell you." He said quickly and I scowled.

"And you really think Matthew will tell us?" I asked, and Alfred flinched at my gaze.

"I can't tell you, I am sorry. It has to come from him."

Kiku looked at me with a frown and I looked at Alfred.

"Alright." I said, and both their eyes widened. "We will do this the slow way then. We are going to be there for Matthew every day. We _will not_ forget about him. Kiku are you able to make lunch for him every day?" Kiku nodded quickly.

"Alfred since you are the only person who actually knows everything about him, you need to be there for him medically and psychologically. We want him to be in the least amount of pain possible. He will talk to you too, be there for him."

"And what are you going to do?" Alfred asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I am not going to leave him alone." I said before taking off down the sidewalk.

* * *

I was watching the trees sway in the wind before I heard hurried footfalls slapping pavement behind me.

"Matthew!" I ignored the call.

"Matthew! Jesus Christ!" I turned around and let myself gawk at the sight of Gilbert running down the sidewalk towards me, his white hair shining in the sunlight unnaturally.

His face was flushed pink and he was breathing hard and he stopped in front of me he held up a finger and leaned over, trying to catch his breath.

"One- one sec." He wheezed and I was frozen where I was standing., watching him in front of me.

"Okay!" He shot upward and looked at me with a determined expression.

"I am walking you home." He said sharply and started walking again in the direction of my home. I blinked at where he had been standing then at his retreating back, trying to make sence of the situation.

Did he say he was walking me home?

He spun around and shot me an annoyed expression. "Are you coming or not?" He yelled and I started, juping to hurry to him.

I don't really know why I did it but I guess it had something to do with the relieved and somewhat happy expression that had crossed his face before he turned away again.

"Toni told me you lived on the same street as me." He said randomly and looked at me with a curious expression I hadn't seen before.

"Yes." I said quietly and we walked in silence. I couldn't wrap my mind around the situation. Gilbert was walking determinedly, a fire in his eyes that thrilled and scared me.

I had absolutely no idea what he planned to do.

I briefly worried that he would come into my home tried to imagine the situation. Nothing should be in disarray, I wasn't late so my mother wouldn't do anything, and there was a chance she wasn't even there. Sometimes she went out to bars to drink and left my pills on the table.

I hoped this was one of those times.

I watched Gilbert blatantly and he snuck glances at me. It was the forest time I had really gotten to look at Gilbert without talking to him or being angry at him and I was surprised by what I saw.

Gilbert was really beautiful. He had surprisingly long eyelashes that framed his narrowed chilling eyes in thick fans. They were almost translucent in colour but they were so thick that they looked white.

He had a light blush high on his cheekbones, from running or from sun I didn't know, and his skin was unblemished by pimples, freckles, or moles.

His nose was small in size, and curved upwards more than most people. His untamed white hair stood up in odd angles and made his face look longer and I wondered what he would look like if he styled it. I couldn't imagine it though; it was like trying to imagine him in a suit or some refined clothing. My guess would be he would look like a caged animal.

Every time he looked at me he looked away again quickly, his cheeks growing a bit redder each time. The last time he clutched his hands together and looked me straight in the eye.

"it isn't nice to stare you know." He said and I looked away as quickly as he had before. I was slightly ashamed for my undisguised staring but a lot of it came from the fact that he was so bothered by it.

I had never seen Gilbert act insecure, but apparently now was one of those times. He was gripping his hands together tightly and bowed his head to look at them, not watching where he was walking.

I wondered what Gilbert was really like despite what he talked about. I had always liked his writing, though it was funny and slightly sadistic, it always had a deeper feel to it. Like he was always hinting at a bigger picture behind each story, and there usually was. Though it was subtle.

I wondered if his personality was subtle and he used a big ego to cover it up.

We neared my house and he inspected it thoroughly, looking at every detail and grinning as he saw something I couldn't.

"Do you have a phone?" He asked, and I pulled out the cheap phone without another thought. For some reason I decided to trust him, maybe it was because of the glimpses of emotion I had seen from just this encounter.

He grabbed the phone and flipped it open, typing into it rapidly.

"It's kind of old, and- you know- um- cheap." I said, suddenly self-conscious. My mother had only gotten me the device in case of emergencies and if she needed to call me. I hardly ever used it.

He looked up at me from the phone and snapped it shut, handing it back to me before reaching into his pocket and drawing out the same phone only the colour was black.

"It sucks doesn't it? It is a total piece of crap, but at least you got one right?' He cackled and for some reason this comforted me. The laugh sounded less cruel when it wasn't directed at someone else's expense or mine. He tucked his phone back into his bag and his eyes flashed to the house again. I tried not to stare at him but it was difficult, why hadn't I noticed how defined his jaw was before?

"Which one is your room?" He asked suddenly and looked over at me, his gaze was mischievous. Should I trust such a look that floated through his eyes?

I found my hand raising and pointing to a window on the left side of the house on the second floor. I hadn't even made the decision to trust him, it was instinctual. I _wanted _to trust him.

His eyes followed my finger to the window and sparkled in glee and triumph in such a way I had no idea what it meant. Was it malicious?

Gilbert spun on his heel, the delighted gleam never leaving his eyes until he reached out a hand, and it was replaced with brief uncertainty.

His fingertips brushed against my shirtsleeve then my arm was engulfed in warmth as he gripped it almost tenderly. He let go quickly and flashed me a small smile, one that I had never seen before. It was so different from his large cocky grin that spread across his whole face. This was kindhearted in a way I could never have imagined on someone like Gilbert.

"I gave you my phone number okay? Call me if you want or need to. See you soon." His eyes crinkled once again in mischief and he walked away to his house, leaving me pondering the meaning of his exact words.

* * *

Ugh that took longer than necessary. I am sorry! This story has given me such grief, I had honestly no idea where to go with it then I would get distracted by other things like Harry potter fanfiction and finishing my first story He Paints The Color Red (HPTCR, if you haven't read it please do!)

I have been working on so much guys! I will keep working on this one and now that I have some new ideas updates will hopefully come more rapidly.

So what did you think of this chapter? Like it? Hate it? It flows? It is choppy? Give me feedback please I love reading them and if they are particularly long or interesting I will reply!

Or email me at peculiarwriter I love hearing from you guys.

-Serenity Ma Sogni


	11. Chapter 11

Caution! There is extremely mild sexual content in this chapter, nothing that would scar and not smut, just putting it out there for any younger peoples who may be reading this, and just so I am not disappointing you guys, it isn't between Matthew and Gilbert, seriously, it is like the mildest thing ever.

Also! There will be texting in this chapter and so not all of the texts will be grammatically correct (on purpose) so please excuse them as intentional -.-

* * *

I considered this a lucky night, I was very lucky indeed. I came in the door to find my pills sitting on the cluttered counter, white, round and innocent. I gulped them down and sighed as the burning in my stomach and throat subsided.

The house was silent and dreary; I had to avoid heaps of disordered rubbish and different things that had accumulated over time. The carpet was stained with alcohol and sometimes blood, only I would know it was blood though as it had turned brown with age.

I could remember every place she made me bleed, it was something of a reminder to me, to never pain anyone else as I had pained her.

I fell onto the couch, narrowly avoiding a crushed beer can and old newspapers that were crumpled beyond legibility, and pulled out my phone. It was cheap, extremely so, and I was surprised that Gilbert had the same phone; it was something that nagged at me.

I knew absolutely nothing about Gilbert. Was it something I had considered before? No, so why now was I expressing interest in Gilbert's life? Was it because of the look in his eyes, which had practically screamed 'trust me.' I had seen such eyes be cruel, cold and malicious, and now I was wondering what had made them that way. Where had that look of such tender care come from? Where did this cense of faith come from?

I stared at the new number next to the only other number in the contacts list. '**GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT'** typed in bold block letters. 'I will see you soon.' He said, how soon did he mean? What about the other looks in his eyes that I had seen, the cunning mischief that had sparkled, the gleeful look that had crossed his face when he looked at where my room was. What did it all mean?

I got up carefully from the couch, cradling my stomach, which was still bruised pretty badly. My legs were practically torn to pieces but because of the pills I was thankfully pretty numb.

I walked to the staircase, avoiding the pieces shattered alcohol bottles of every kind and colour, and grabbing my school bag. I practically dragged myself up the many stairs. I hated that we had a multi-level home most of the time; it was such a bother.

The door to my bedroom was white, but stained and dirty, like most of the rest of the house but I kept my bedroom as clean as possible. There was little clutter, everything I owned was in it's right place, mostly because Mother didn't come in here, I gave up on wondering why.

I gave up trying to understand her reasoning long ago, though she was painfully right sometimes. _Painfully._

I pulled my homework from my bag and let it float onto the bed with a papery flop as it came to a rest. I took my stolen pencil and the extra out and let it also fall onto the bed, before letting my body follow suit. I refused to grimace as my stomach hit the hard mattress.

School always came easily to me, it was a way to escape into the subject, much like writing and reading, it was something to do when there was nothing else in your life to focus on. Imagine my surprise when I was distracted in the middle of my language arts essay. By a one and only Gilbert Beilschmidt.

It was annoying and persistent, but every time I shoved thoughts about the white haired boy out of my head they sidled back as casually as if they had never left. I huffed in baffled confusion after stopping myself from wondering what Gilbert would have put for question number seventeen. It was obvious nothing was going to deter the thoughts from entering my brain, and I pushed the homework in front of me away, taking to letting my head fall into my folded arms and just let everything wash into my head.

The first thing I focused on was the images of him, the looks he had presented to me today that I had never seen before. I was so focused on avoiding him and hating the fact that he was so cruel that I forgot that there was always a reason for someone's cruelty, there was always a reason why. I had almost forgotten that Gilbert was a human being; he was simply something I had to deal with. I didn't know that Gilbert had a life outside of school, I didn't know what he talked about, I didn't know who he interacted with.

Well- that wasn't true. I knew he hung out with Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Carrido, but what did that mean? I didn't know who they were either. I felt my cheeks heat up in shame. I was ignorant to so many things when I had been avoiding interaction with them; I had come to hate them without knowing them. Hadn't Antonio tried to help me? Hadn't he understood?

He knew what I was going trough he had known and tried to help, it wasn't his fault that he forgot, everyone forgot at some point. The real thing to focus on was that he tried to help in the first place.

I pulled out my phone and looked at the new entry again, before clicking on it and making a new message: _Gilbert?_

I held my breath and within seconds a reply made my phone vibrate in my hand. I felt excitement bubble inside me and catch my breath as I opened the text.

_Hey! whats up?_

I bit my lower lip, trying to come up with a way to answer. It was so weird talking in this way to someone.

_How did you answer number seventeen for our language homework? _I typed in, because the question was really something I would like to know. I sent it with a small smile.

_srysly? um..let me check_

I waited almost impatiently for Gilbert's text. The question was somewhat personal but for some reason I didn't think he would mind. Was I putting too much trust in him? I had only really known that he had another caring part of him for a small amount of time.

_R u sure u really wanna kno? _ The text was hesitant and I was immediately self conscious. I shouldn't have asked him, it was too personal, something I should hae asked him later when we knew each other better.

_My parents died when I was young, we live with our grandfather but he is sick, my home life isn't that great. But I am not going to answer that way of course. _

I stared at the text, not only did it not have any mistakes, it was so revealing. I never would have guessed that Gilbert didn't have parents, and he had said we. What did that mean? Did he have siblings?

_We?_

_._

I waited.

_I have a little brother, he starts high school next year._

_._

A little brother? I tried to imagine a smaller version of Gilbert and just couldn't, maybe the albinism didn't appear with his brother?

_Is he albino too?_

.

_Haha, no. I am the only one. He is blonde. _

_._

_What is his name?_

_._

_Ludwig_

_._

_What is he like?_

_._

_Way too mature for his age, you would probably get along with him if you met him. Maybe you can come over and see him sometime_

_._

_I would like_

My head whipped up at the sound of the door slamming and a loud thud reverberating through the house. Loud moans followed the thud and I squeezed my eyes shut. I hated when Mother brought home men; it was disgusting.

I heard their raucous giggling as they stumbled up the stairs, at one time I had thought it was nice to hear my mother laughing. Now it sickened me.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I ignored it, trying to block out the thuds that drew closer to my mother's bedroom. I just hoped they made it there.

My phone buzzed again and I ignored it, now wasn't the time to text Gilbert. I didn't want to tarnish the memory of speaking with him with such activities going on. The phone buzzed and buzzed until after a few minutes it remained silent.

I cracked an eye open, looking at the phone in dismay. I really didn't want Gilbert to stop texting me, it was kind of comforting knowing he cared enough to keep trying even though I wasn't responding.

I picked up the phone and opened it, scrolling to where I stopped responding without reading the other texts.

_Matthew?_

_._

_Sorry, you don't have to come over if you don't want to_

_._

_Hello?_

_._

_Matthew?_

_._

_Seriously I am worried_

_._

_Respond please_

_._

_What happened?_

_._

_I am coming over if you don't respond_

_._

_Matthew this isn't funny_

_._

_I am coming over_

_._

My heart raced, the fevered moans had become louder. If Gilbert came he would be able to hear them. What if he rang the doorbell? That would be horrific. I would never survive if such a thing happened.

I looked at the time he had sent the last text, to find it was six minutes ago, plenty of time for him to make it to my house. So why hadn't I heard anything yet?

I looked over the texts again, my once racing heart growing heavy as I re-read the texts. He even said he was outright worried. Was he coming? Did I want him to come?

A light tapping sound came from my window and I could feel my eyes widen. I looked at the wall that separated my mother and my room, hoping to god she wouldn't hear me moving around.

I almost crawled to the window, where the tapping had begun again and pulled back the curtain, and almost leapt back when I saw Gilbert's worried face peering in. He startled backwards as well and looked me up and down hastily.

I opened the window and he leaned in, allowing me to see just how he was able to reach my window.

He had climbed the tree, one of the most preposterous, cheesy, crazy ways to ever come to check if I was okay. And my heart was racing again. Or was it fluttering?

"What are you doing here?" I hissed, trying to make my voice sound disapproving but I was really really happy.

"Are you okay?" He asked, ignoring my question once again letting his eyes roam my body -looking for injuries- so why were my cheeks heating up?

A particularly loud moan floated from my mother's room and Gilbert's eyes drifted from me to the wall that the moan had come from.

His eyes snapped back to me and he smiled a wide teeth filled smile, catching me off guard and taking my breath away. "Come out." He said and I blanked.

"What?"

"Come out! Come outside with me." He insisted and let one hand slip away from the tree, pushing the window open more. "You can do it." He whispered.

I wanted to, go I ached to go outside with him. The wide smile that simply invited me to join him was almost too good to resist but I knew what would happen if I went outside. It would show on my face, she would know. I was about to decline, tell Gilbert to go home when he said the most beautiful words I had ever heard.

"I won't let her hurt you." He whispered.

.~.~

Woo I am on a plane right now. I haven't really been able to do a lot of writing currently because I was on family vacation which was actually okay, but the long ass plane rides and two layovers was not fun. Goodbye Colorado! If you guys haven't yet, please check out my two other stories He Paints The Color Red, and my new story The Assignment. Both are PruCan.

I would just like to say HAPPY CANADA DAY MOTHERFUCKERS! I love you all I hope you review because it is inspiring and really helps me with life and ….ya favorite if you haven't already, tell me what you think, email me with the email I put in the last chapter. Also, I just checked (off the plane now heh) and I have 100 followers! Yay Thanks!

Coolio byebye. –Serenity Ma Sogni


	12. Chapter 12

Laughter filled the car in loud rounds of cackles as the woman smiled widely at her husband, who sported a beer in one hand and the woman's bra in the other. He grinned fiercely at the woman, not sparing a glance at the child who sat in the back seat, looking out the window silently with wide violet eyes.

The car swerved wildly, and the raucous laughter increased in volume and hysteria. A bit of the beer spilt from the bottle and the woman gasped in mock horror.

"Honey your suit!" She shrieked and burst out laughing, along with her husband.

"Oh no!" He cried enthusiastically, and tipped the bottle onto the lap of the woman, making her gasp again as the alcohol spilt down the expensive dress.

"Oops, of fuck, I guess we will have to get you out of that dress as soon as we get home!" He cried, the innuendo making his alcohol slurred voice sound especially unctuous.

The woman made a seductive gesture with her hands that made the man's eyes widen along with his grin, before a long loud blaring honk made both their heads snap towards the window.

Too late.

The sound of the horn mixed with a sickening crunch as the two vehicles smashed together, glass and blood flying. The shriek that emitted from the child's mouth was the first sound anyone heard from the child that night as he watched his parents flop in the front seat unconscious, and the blood in the other car. Someone else was screaming with him.

The cry was short and sharp and it tired out the boy's mostly unused vocal cords quickly and he fell silent. He looked around the car and tried to wipe away the tears on his face, but his arm stung and made him cry out again.

"Momma?" The boy whispered and sniffed before trying again. "Momma?"

Sirens wailed in the distance, distracting the boy before he looked down at his arm.

The flesh was torn open and blood trickled thickly down his arm onto the seats of the expensive car, there was a large shard of glass wedged in the pale skin and each time the boy shuddered it gave a violent twinge, making him cry out again.

The man and woman were still in the front seat of the car and still quite unconscious, the man's leg was bent at an odd angle and the woman had a large gash on her forehead that made blood run down her face like tears. Both didn't hear the ambulance approach. Both didn't hear the screams of their child. Both didn't hear the agonized wails of the victim they had hit.

"Daddy!" The boy near screamed and tried to cover his ears to the loud siren that made them ring.

His father did not respond.

The boy watched as other men raced from the ambulance and pried open the door of the car theirs had struck, pulling a single woman from the drivers seat. Her legs were twisted and crumpled and it almost tore a sob from the boy's lips. His violet eyes were once again filled with tears.

The men raced the woman to the ambulance as another pulled up and more men ran to their car, peering in the windows with worried eyes.

They pulled the boy's parents from the car, and their faces lit up when they saw that the man and woman were not dead. The boy stayed in the car, silent and watching.

They loaded the parents into the ambulance and the attendants were about to jump in along with them when the boy recognized that they were going to leave him behind, he had been left behind so many times now he knew how to recognize it.

He let out a loud scream that made the men jump, their heads snapping to the vehicle and looking in horror at the child they missed, covered in his own blood and watching with scared eyes.

It was a wonder he hadn't fallen unconscious after losing so much blood. The men pulled him from the car and the boy tried to keep from screaming as his arm was jostled when he was laid on the stretcher. He was loaded with his parents and the attendants started working on his arm, numbing the area around his arm but not pulling the long piece of glass from his thin arm.

Worried glances were exchanged, not missed by the small boy.

"What is your name?" One of the attendants asked, and the child struggled to respond, opening and closing his mouth before finally choking out a small, 'Matthew.'

"I want you to sleep now Matthew." The attendant said, before pulling a mask over the child's head and centering it on his mouth.

"Everything will be just fine." She whispered, before Matthew's eyes slid closed. He didn't know that she had just lied to him, but then again, she hadn't known either.

* * *

So I was on the wall for a long time about what to do with this chapter, and I decided to let you guys have some back story in apology for my taking so long. If you read any of my other stories (He Paints The Color Red, The Assignment) particularly The Assignment, I have been explaining my lateness. Namely, I have a lot of stories going on and a lot of shit happening in life and sometimes the writing mood just doesn't make any appearances.

I really love it when you guys review, it makes me really happy to hear from you, and sometimes I reply if I have the time. Please follow, favourite, and look up any other stories I have on this site, I would really appreciate it. -Serenity Ma Sogni

If any of you were wondering here is a list of what I am working on in terms of stories:

1 Ouran High School Host Club: KyoyaxKaoru

1 Black Butler: CielxSebastian

1 Hetalia: AmericaxCanada

5 Hetalia: PrussiaxCanada

1 Harry Potter: HarryxDraco

All of them are AU except for the Harry Potter one which is kind of AU but not really. Just thought you might want to know, feel free to ask me about them if you wish.


	13. Chapter 13

I looked out the window in amazement, I couldn't get enough air into my lungs, blood rushed in my veins; I could almost feel each beat of my heart as it sped.

"Okay." I breathed, and Gilbert's smile widened. I really liked his smile; it made him look so different.

I spared a last glance at the wall that separated me from my mother before looking back to Gilbert, who had moved back in the tree to make room for me to come out.

I pulled back the cheap curtains, most of the curtains downstairs were stained and disgusting but not mine, such simple things were pleasant.

I stuck my bare foot out the window and shivered a little as the night air cooled my leg, Gilbert nodded in encouragement and glanced at the ground quickly.

"Be careful." He whispered and I resigned myself to the fact that my face would never be the right temperature again while he kept looking at me like that.

I nodded at him and gripped the edge of the window, attached to the house, pulling my head through, then the other half of my body, and I was free.

Free for the night.

Gilbert, who was surprisingly good at climbing trees, moved like a spider as he dropped rapidly lower down the tree, helping me down when I got stuck. He never stopped making sure I never injured myself. It was so strange. Even Alfred had never acted like that; no one had really looked at me that closely before.

He dropped down to the ground first and I couldn't help but stop and admire how outlandish his hair looked in the moonlight, it seemed to glow; he seemed too pale to exist in this world.

I shook myself out of my musings before he could notice and dropped to the final branches before dropping to the ground myself.

"How am I going to get up there again?" I whispered to him and he laughed, it wasn't loud like his usual laughs, it wasn't the odd cackle he displayed when at school. It was a sort of dry rough sound. I found it easier to listen to than the other laugh.

Gilbert seemed to notice he was laughing differently because he abruptly stopped, and his hand flew upwards, almost covering his mouth before he pulled it away. Red stained his pale cheeks, it was a good look for him, made him loo more human.

"Um, I will help you." He murmured and turned away, and started walking towards his house.

After a few steps he turned back and arched a brow at me, frowning.

"Are you coming?" He asked, sounding concerned. I jumped a little and caught up to him quickly, the look of brief relief on his face brought an unbidden smile to my face and made me breath deeply again. He stole my breath away and it wasn't fair.

Gilbert quirked a smile at me and started off again, ducking low at different times when we passed the houses. It seemed obvious to me that he had done this before. We finally came to a stop in front of a house I knew to be his, and he looked at it a few seconds, his eyes straying up to a window on the second floor and lingering for a few seconds before he grabbed my hand and pulled me around the side of the house.

I ignored that my skin tingled at the heat of his touch, or the fact that he was touching me at all.

We walled a ways away from the house, in the backyard, him never letting go of my hand before he deemed it a good spot and plopped onto the ground with a huff, laying down in the lush grass.

The house was expensive looking, my house probably would have looked the same had my mother cared, but it seemed someone spent a lot of time making it look good. Even the yard was landscaped with fresh green grass that was soft to the touch; trees grew from the ground looking monstrously big in comparison to us.

I settled across from Gilbert and looked up at the stars, I barely restrained the contented sigh that wanted to escape my lips.

"You kind of remind me of a spider's web." Gilbert murmured, then his eyes widened and he snuck a glance at me, looking away quickly as his cheeks darkened.

I didn't really know what to think about what he had said, I tried not to think about it being an insult but it was hard, before he had seemed so cruel and now… it was just a sudden change.

"I hadn't meant to say that out loud, forget about it." He said quickly, avoiding my eyes. I just couldn't help but feel that it wasn't an insult, so I just wiped it from my mind.

We waited in silence, it was somewhat stifling and uncomfortable but also so much better from inside that house, I was beginning to feel myself slowly relax.

"I think my brother would like you." He said suddenly, breaking the silence and causing me to look at him. He was staring up at the stars with a thoughtful expression I didn't know he had, like he was contemplating something lightly. It was surreal in his outlandish beauty.

"Why do you think?" I asked and he looked at me, his dark red eyes looking lighter in the moonlight, almost like blood. I hated the color, but right now I couldn't bring myself to look away.

"He is a bit like you in personality. He is really dominant and uptight and that isn't like you at all, but he always knows what to say and is kind of quiet; like you. It is easy to take care of him."

I hummed noncommittally and tore my eyes away from his to look at the house again. What kind of life did Gilbert live outside of school? Who did he show this side to? Francis and Antonio?

"What are your friends like?" I asked, and Gilbert made a surprised noise in his throat, but didn't look at me. He cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly and shifted, clenching his hands in the thick grass.

"They are nothing like what you see and hear at school, let me tell you that. All of us have done some real shit in our lives, but it isn't our fault."

I drew my eyebrows together then cleared my face, even though I was confused by his answer and the guardedness it held; it was like he was defending himself.

"What are they like?" I pressed, hoping he would get what I meant. I hadn't meant to tread on some invisible stress point, but I wanted to know what he was really like. And what he meant by 'not our fault'.

Gilbert sighed and relaxed, letting the grass he almost tore from the ground free.

"They are both really perceptive." He snickered, "they always know what is going on before you can tell them." His expression softened to a blank look and his eyes looked a million miles away.

"Both of them understand what it's like to be misunderstood, we help each other out whenever we need help. I can't tell you how many times we have pulled each other out of such shitty messes."

"How long have you known them?" I asked, and Gilbert flinched a little.

"I have known Francis since I was thirteen, we went to middle school together, Antonio we met in freshman year here."

Middle school was hard for me, but Alfred was pretty much always there to help me through things. It was a wonder they had stayed so close throughout the years. But relying on someone can bring them closer than you could have ever thought they would be.

"What is your favourite animal?" He asked suddenly startling me into looking at him, and getting immediately lost in his illuminated eyes.

"Um- a- polar bears." I managed to stutter out and Gilbert nodded slowly, looking thoughtful.

"Mine is the _ bird, I have one- wanna meet him?" He asked slowly, and eyed me carefully. I was shocked by his topic change and now his inquisition to meet his pet, and I nodded numbly, hit by shock again as Gilbert smiled widely. I was never going to be able to get over such an amazing smile. I had never seen such a beautiful thing.

Gilbert jumped up with enthusiasm and whistled in a low pitch but still pretty loudly, and as soon as he finished with the long tone he almost threw himself back onto the ground with an excited gleam in his eye.

A couple seconds after he had settled, a shrill chirp seemed to come out of nowhere and a puff of yellow, only visible from the moonlight, hurtled itself into Gilbert's hair, startling me backwards and making Gilbert laugh.

After a few seconds of Gilbert getting ahold of himself, and stop laughing, and my being entranced by the sound of his laughter, the other boy reached up and extracted the small puff of yellow from his head.

Holding it carefully in his hands, he brought his arms out and presented it to me with a smile and a small peep from the bird in his hands.

"This is Gilbird." He said, quietly, and the puff stirred; then hurtled towards my own head with startling speed, knocking me flat of the ground with such force.

Gilbert's face was pricelessly blank and a shocked giggle burst from my mouth as I felt the bird make itself comfortable in my hair, the warmth of the animal was strange resting atop my head.

I looked over to Gilbert, to find him still staring at me in shock, till he blinked and a blush covered his face and spread down his neck. It was a funny sight as his eyes were wide and disbelieving, the contrast of the colors of skin was a sight.

"He has never done that to anyone else before!" Gilbert choked out a shaky laugh with the words and shook his head in awe, seeming too much for him to take in.

"I have never seen him act that way with anyone but me! Even for Francis, he never does that!"

I bit my lip and he laughed again with renewed force and flung himself back as he rolled in the grass, laughing his head off.

"You-" he wheezed, "you don't have to look so worried." He snickered again and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"I swear, why don't you show more emotion on your face at school, you are hilarious." He snorted, "wait till Francis hears what Gilbird did, he will be so jealous."

He let out a long breath and looked at me again, then at Gilbird on my head.

"I can take him off if you want, it's okay." His eyes were suddenly serious.

"N-no." I said and I leant back carefully, resting on the ground without the bird so much as stirring. "It is just weird to feel how warm he is."

Gilbert nodded then was silent for a second, his eyes flickering up to the bird.

"Can you feel his heartbeat?" He asked quietly then was silent, watching me.

I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, and was startled to feel the quick heartbeats of the bird on my head; it was so strange, so curious and surreal to feel.

"Yes." I breathed then opened my eyes, shocked to see Gilbert looking at me with an odd expression. He seemed to shake himself and the expression was whisked away and replaced with one of happiness.

"Awesome, I love feeling something so alive so close to me, really makes it that much more startling right?"

I nodded and smiled when I felt Gilbird shift. We sat there for most of the night, contented in watching the stars in the sky and the clouds, barely visible in the night, pass overhead, sometimes covering the moon and blocking my vision from Gilbert.

I decided I would remember tonight as something special, and I smiled. When Gilbert asked what I was smiling for I just shook my head, and he smiled too and didn't press the matter.

That just made me smile that much more.

* * *

Hello! I am pretty happy with this chapter and I have a plan with what I am going to do for this story. I have been so iffy and on the wall with what I want to do and ideas I want to use but can't because they wont fit and all these other stories to keep track of, seriously it is a mess, but luckily it is still summer and I am not too stressed. Cross your fingers, hope I make varsity volleyball this year!

I hope you guys will tell me all about your experience reading this chapter and story because I really love hearing from you. I love answering questions about anything. If you haven't, please read my other two stories: He Paints The Color Red, and The Assignment. The links are below.

s/9419070/1/The-Assignment

s/8962267/1/He-Paints-the-Color-Red

Please review if you can, really it doesn't take that long to tell me what you think! I hope you stick around and favourite! -Serenity Ma Sogni


	14. Chapter 14

I had to say that when I woke up I felt pretty fucking awesome. Last night had been fantastic. Of course there was some very blatant awkwardness between us, but I was pretty sure I was making progress in making Matthew trust me.

And it wasn't hard either.

Matthew was actually really fun to talk to; when you got past his quietness and really focused on him he seemed to grow under the spotlight, every thought that he expressed was interesting just because he was saying it, because every word was thought out.

He caught me in words that I hadn't meant to say; phrases I only rarely used. It had been a long time since I had been able to act so naturally around, even Francis didn't seem to understand some things about me that I had a feeling Matthew would.

I hadn't meant to say he was like a spiders web out loud, it was really just a musing, something that flitted into my mind and across my tongue, but it felt so right. Matthew was so fitted to a spiders web, and it was astounding to me the more I thought about it.

Spiders' webs are intricate and complex, easy to overlook, misjudge, and get caught in; and so fragile, ever so delicate. But I didn't believe Matthew was fragile, in fact I thought he was one of the strongest people I ever knew, but I felt that if I were to give him kindness then take it away it would break him.

That was something I would never do.

I wondered if he was scared, to be in a place so vulnerable to anyone to hurt him if they were so inclined? He was completely alone, and I couldn't understand why.

Last night was a sort of test, to give me a chance to evaluate Matthew and see what kind of person he really was. There were times when he surprised me and times when I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

Both he and I were sad when we noticed how late it had gotten to be, and Matthew insisted he had to return home. Both he and I knew he didn't want to go back to the shit hole of a home. I was shocked to say the least, when I heard the moan come from what I assumed to be his mother's bedroom.

Matthew had looked miserable, and he looked the same when he climbed back into his window. I had waited until he had turned out the light before making my way back to my own bed; I couldn't get his face from my mind.

But today I was going to work hard to notice everything I could about Matthew's behaviour at school, because how you act at school is always different from how you act at home, and I am the fucking poster boy for that statement. I hadn't been lying to Matthew when I told him my friends were different at school than they were when we were alone together.

Francis has a horrible reputation for being a perverted heartbreaker, and at one time he was. His mother had been one of the sluttiest women I had ever had the displeasure of meeting, and her promiscuity had fucked with Francis' head for a long time.

When we had met I was shocked to find such a person, and together we differentiated between relationships and careless flings. Francis was now afraid to be in a relationship because he thought his past self would hurt the person he would try to be with.

We had met Antonio in our freshman year, and we helped him through the trial that would convict his father of abuse and put him in prison. It had been one of the most trying things we had ever had to face. Antonio's mother was torn between her love for her husband and her desire to have him out of her life, and she almost didn't testify. After a lengthy trial and a few months of horrible pain and heartbreak for Antonio, his father was put away for a sentence of fifteen years before the option of parole.

Antonio wasn't the happy man you saw every day, walking down the halls with a grin that never faded, he often broke down and cried, he had a deeper understanding of pain that both Francis and I could never understand.

Each of us insecurities, things we have done that would tear us to pieces should anyone find out, and ways of dealing with the memories.

I pulled myself out of bed and got ready as quickly as I could, sliding down the railing of the stairs and hopping to the floor as Ludwig passed and glared at me in warning. He had told me many times not to do it, but really I couldn't pass up the opportunity to look awesome doing it.

After Antonio had fallen off the third time I was more careful, the Spaniard though, was banned from the activity for his own safety.

I slid on the wood flooring into the kitchen and Gilbird chirped before dive-bombing into my hair, where he settled and chirped once more contentedly.

I pulled out both Ludwig and my lunchboxes and threw them onto the marble counter, then put myself to the task of making our lunches. Ludwig breezed by me and grabbed four slices of toast that had popped up from the toaster.

He sidestepped around me as I got glasses of orange juice for us and set them on the table and he separated the pieces of toast onto two plates before buttering the toast on one plate and spreading peanut butter on the other.

He put the two plates on the table while I shoved frozen fruit I had taken from the freezer into a blender and measured a quarter cup of protein powder to dump in with the mix along with the medicines our grandfather needed.

"Put your bag by the door, I'll be back in a sec." I called and Ludwig gave me a small nod of affirmation before grabbing his backpack from where it sat by his feet.

I poured the smoothie into a tall glass and stuck in a straw before making my way up the stairs again.

I turned past the hallway that led to Ludwig's and my room and went down another separate hallway till I heard the steady beeping that grew louder with each step I took, before knocking on the door out of politeness. I knew he couldn't answer anyway.

I opened the door and stepped through slowly, letting the darkness reach forward from the room and my eyes adjust so I could make out the faint outline of the bed, cloaked in the dark.

"Hallo Opa." I said quietly and silence greeted me in return.

"Guten morgen." I whispered and stepped forward, letting myself be enveloped in the darkness. "I have your breakfast. Ludwig is waiting downstairs to go to school."

The beeping stayed stable and consistent; my grandfather was silent.

"I think I can help someone now Opa."

I bent my head, stared at my black Converse and breathed the heavy air that filled the room and made my limbs feel weighted. I left the room with heavy footsteps and the beginnings of a headache. I closed the door tightly behind me without another glance at the inhabitant of the room.

"Bruder are you ready?" Ludwig called, and gave me a long look before glancing away quickly.

I grabbed my bookbag but didn't respond only to pull out my phone to see the text that blinked onto the screen.

_Got 'im –A_

I smiled a little before following my brother out the door.

No one notices me

No one sees the scars

They miss the trembling

My bones protruding like knives through my skin

I am forgotten and floating,

Floating through the sea of broken souls

Do I get saved?

My mother hits me,

Her partner egging her on

The memories of bathroom beatings,

They echo across my eyes as I sleep

Haunting me forever

I tell,

People nod and smile,

Telling me it will go away,

Do they know for sure?

What if I die?

I want to die sometimes.

But even after all the beatings,

After all the blood

I want to live,

To make my life worthwhile

This broken thing I have been handed,

It needs to mean something

I am taken care of

Though the bandages around my ribs always soak through

Meaningless coverings over the false scars

The first scar

Stretching across my abdomen

Stopping me from ever healing properly

My mother made that scar

The knife slicing through the clean skin

Unleashing blood,

Sealing my fate everlastingly,

Ugly and blank

It cuts across my chest silently

Bearing the mark of my screams

This boy watching me,

His eyes glowing red like the blood staining my floor

He frowns when I hurt.

Perhaps he sees me

Perhaps he cares

But no one cares about what happens

But somewhere in my heart I feel scared

Not of the beatings waiting for me when I go home

Scared because for once I feel confusion,

Confusion of how someone will treat me

He says these things…

But does he really mean them?

Woohoo another chapter out, school starts tomorrow for me so I thought I would treat you guys to two new chapters tonight, one from ATS and one from The Assignment.

I really hope you guys have read my story He Paints The Color Red. I am trying to get as many favourites as I can for that one for a bet I have with my mom.

That poem was written by one of my followers and I promised I would post it! I was really happy that my story was able to inspire someone! If any of you are inspired to write a poem or a haiku or make a picture or something, send it to me and I will definitely post it in a chapter. Thank you wholockedfangirl you are amazing!

s/8962267/1/He-Paints-the-Color-Red

^Here is the link to my story HPTCR, please read it!

Next chapter is Mattie's POV!

-Serenity


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